


Good Thing I Brought My Library Card

by embarrasst (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi, a gay one, also austria and hungary own a coffee shop, also yao has a thing for cookbooks, did i mention that ivan is awkward, english problems ivan, everything is awkward and unfortunate, it's an involved world, ivan is awkward, romano may or may not own a night club, rome owns a gym, the meet at the library, tino is sly, who is derrichs?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 155,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/embarrasst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you told Ivan one year ago that he'd be living in America today, he'd barely be able to believe you. If you told him he'd be working as a bouncer at a gay night club, he'd definitely not believe you.<br/>And if you told him he'd be in love with the quirky Chinese man he met (ran into) at the library, he'd say you're crazy.<br/>(Well, he'd best believe it)</p><p>Alternate summary: Ivan's world consisted of working, eating, and sleeping. This changed, however, when he went to check out a book at the library, and laid eyes on possibly the most attractive person in his universe.<br/>Yao Wang's presence offers Ivan a new take on life-- one with love, and all the drama that may follow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bozhe moy

**_Today_ ** _Wednesday, June 26_

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_Hello? Ivan? I’m not sure if this is working_

_Ivan Braginski:_

_I’m here, you’ve got it. How is that new computer working, then?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_It works well I think._

_Natalya is here also_

_Ivan Braginski:_

_Say hello to her for me._

_How is the weather there, by the way?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_It’s been nice so far, which probably means we’re in for cold winter…_

_You?_

Ivan took a moment to look out his window. The clouds were blindingly white, and it was completely overcast. But it wasn’t raining, and the trees in the park across the street were undisturbed by wind.

_Ivan Braginski:_

_It’s nice today._

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_How are you liking America?_

_(What part are you in again?)_

_Ivan Braginski:_

_I live in Seattle? That’s in Washington_

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_That’s near New York, right?_

_Wait, Natalya’s pulling out map._

Ivan sighed.

                _Oh_

_That is not near New York._

_Ivan Braginski:_

_Not really, no._

_Listen, it’s nearly time for me to go. It’s been nice talking though. Keep in touch._

_Yekaterina Braginskya:_

_Bye little brother!_

_Ivan Braginski has left the conversation_

Ivan closed his laptop and slid it into his bag.

Less than four months since he had moved from Russia to the United States, and now he was employed and had his own apartment. And, as of yesterday, he had his very own library card. He had yet to really go to the downtown library, but he hoped it had a large foreign language section. He was a bit rusty on speaking English, and reading English was a headache.

 Grabbing his coat, he slung it on and went out the door. He had work tonight, so if he was going to check out the library properly, he’d better get going now. He locked the door and went down the stairs.

Sirens sounded in the distance as he made his way briskly up the slope of downtown Seattle. The bright white clouds reflected painfully and he regretted not bringing his sunglasses. He settled for squinting as he passed the men sitting on the street corners, signaling his proximity to Pioneer Square.

So Ivan lived in the crumby part of the city. So he had a knife in the inside pocket of his coat, just in case. So he went without lunch nearly every day because money was so tight. He was in America, he had a green card, and what that meant to him was freedom. He was better off than his sisters were, regretfully having left them in Russia, and he was better off than his father or grandfather had been. He was in the land of opportunity and he wasn’t complaining.

The wind was picking up and he could smell the Sound. Particularly fishy today. Up ahead he saw some religious protestors picketing the corners. He took out his ear buds and put them in his ears. He may not have an iPod or MP3 or anything to hook the ear buds up to, but they were sure effective with avoiding unwanted conversations.

Passing by whatever religious fanatic group that was today, he was only a block or two away from the library. The building was a huge mirrored wonder, right in the middle of upper Downtown. Ivan smiled as he walked across the last pedestrian crossing.

He held the door open for the woman behind him, who thanked him, surprised, before he entered.

“Wow…” It was a lot bigger than he expected, if he was honest.

“Would you like help finding anything?” asked a kindly looking librarian, who had watched Ivan’s awestruck entrance with an amused smile.

“Er, d-yes. I would, thank you. Where would I be able to find…” he  paused, “Russian books?”

The librarian’s smile widened as she beckoned for Ivan to follow her. As he did, he couldn’t help but stare around at all the books, all printed in English, on the shelves. He had gone to St. Petersburg libraries before, but never to actually check anything out. He always had work to do: he came to pick up Natalya whenever she had to go for class.

You see, Ivan didn’t technically have a high school education, and neither did Yekaterina. Both of them had to leave school early to work on the family farm. Times were tough and money was tight and it was horrible, but now Ivan was in America, and he’d eventually be able to make enough money to send home to his sisters every now and then.

Now the librarian stopped and motioned down a long aisle, saying something about Ukrainian and Russian being at the end.

“Ukrainian and Russian… together?” Ivan asked, raising an eyebrow.

The librarian looked apologetic and mumbled something about a stupid intern the summer before.

Ivan thanked her and made his way to the section marked ‘Pусский/Український’ to find that sure enough, Ukrainian titles were mixed in among the Russian. It was kind of annoying, but Ivan shrugged it off in favor of sifting through and finding some interesting looking books.

Naturally there was plenty of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. A glittery pink copy of _Alisa v strane chudes,_ or _Alice in Wonderland_ caught his eye, though he mourned the girly look of it. He had heard about this book from when Natalya was teaching Yekaterina to read better. Yekaterina loved fairy tales and bizarre stories. He might have to check this one out.

Ivan rolled his eyes at the sheer number of Bibles translations there were.

He decided on two more books: _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone_ and _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_. These were two more books Natalya had read, so he figured they’d be good enough.

He was on his way to the checkout counter, going through the DIY and Self Help sections when it happened. A bright red in his peripheral had him turning his head down one of the aisles and.

“Bozhe moy,” Ivan muttered, his eyes wide and his legs frozen to the spot.

He was short, with long black hair held back in a ponytail, and he looked to be Chinese. He was wearing a ridiculously bright red cardigan that did nothing to hide how skinny he was. He had a heavy-looking stack of books in his hands as he looked up at one of the high shelves, inching onto his tippy toes to reach that one last book.

And now he had it, and was turning toward Ivan, and Ivan had been staring. Snapping out of his trance, Ivan hurriedly turned the next corner, hoping the man hadn’t caught him staring. He took a moment to collect himself before peaking back around the corner of the shelf to see where he had gone. At that same moment, though, it seemed that the man had decided to go around that corner, focusing mostly on balancing his gigantic stack of books in his arms.

They collided, and the man miraculously held onto all of his books, calling a quiet “Sorry!” behind him as he made his way to the checkout counter.

Ivan could only stand there dumbly. “Oh.” Then he turned around quickly, thinking to catch him at the counters.

He was not at the counters.

\--

He had dropped his books off at his apartment before walking to work that night. He was a bouncer at a nightclub, and while it wasn’t his dream job it certainly paid the bills.

And by ‘not his dream job’ he meant it was a gay night club called ‘Circe’s Island’ a few blocks away from the Space Needle. Which meant it got a lot of attention and lots of rowdy patrons. But the guys who worked there were pretty cool. Their bickering was entertaining, in the least.

“Hello Ivan!” Tino called as Ivan opened the side door. Tino was the bartender most nights, and obnoxiously social most nights, too. Berwald, one of his fellow bouncers, looked up from whatever he was doing on his barstool to nod at Ivan in greeting. Ivan liked Berwald, especially since they nearly never talked. And when things got rough with the rowdier groups, Berwald knew how to both receive and dish out a punch if need be.

Matthias was up on the stage, getting the DJ equipment all set up. Every once in a while it would happen that Alfred wouldn’t be the DJ of the night, and Arthur wouldn’t have bartending duties. Everyone knew nights like that only happened every so often when the stars aligned perfectly. Nights like that were universally known as Date Night, and everyone knew calling them in on nights such as this meant certain death.

Judging by Matthias _and_ Tino’s presence, it meant that the stars were aligned.

It also meant Arthur would be in a much better mood tomorrow.

That night, as he watched for trouble on the dance floor and in the bar area, Ivan couldn’t keep his mind off that Chinese man he’d seen in the library. He refused to call him handsome, even in his private thoughts. No, not handsome. Ivan just couldn’t think of the right word, thought it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue, and it made him feel very dumb.

Ivan had never felt as dumb as he did in the presence of that Chinese man’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter of my fic :)  
>  **Also I have a survey[here](http://lilsnit.polldaddy.com/s/randomfanatic-writing) that I would love if you could fill out to help me improve my writing. **  
>  It's pretty much a specific review that will give me some info I'm looking for  
> Thanks (`3`)


	2. Perpetual Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day when he went back to the library, it was definitely not in hopes of seeing that Chinese man again. No sir, he just… he just wanted to see if there were any other good books in the Russian/Ukrainian section. And if he didn’t actually make it to that area that day, well, it was because he got distracted.

The next day when he went back to the library, it was definitely not in hopes of seeing that Chinese man again. No sir, he just… he just wanted to see if there were any other good books in the Russian/Ukrainian section. And if he didn’t actually make it to that area that day, well, it was because he got distracted.

He was passing the same aisle as he’d hidden behind the day before, when he became intrigued in the contents of the shelf. He shrugged and went down the aisle the Chinese man had been in, and studied the book titles. He struggled for only a moment to read the marker before he gathered that it was the cooking section. That’s funny.

A young male librarian suddenly popped up at his elbow then. “Is there anything specific you’re looking for here? If you’re wanting the cake baking books, you’ll have to either wait here or go up to the reading tables and find the guy who takes them up there every day. I swear, he’s here nearly every day, and all he does is take the cake books and read them upstairs. It’s kinda weird, but Xiao Mei likes him so I’m not going to complain or anything.” He said this all very quickly, and Ivan stood there in shock as the librarian shelved some books. Why did this guy think he wanted cake books? Did he look like a cake baking type?

Wait.

This guy who took all the books. Maybe he was the Chinese man? He had had quite the armful the day before, and he hadn’t checked them out.

“Where are the reading tables?” The librarian pointed at the staircase in the middle of the floor without looking.

“Up there.”

Ivan left silently, and calmly made his way up the stairs. Chances were this ‘cake-guy’ was not even related to the Chinese man in any way, and Ivan didn’t know why he cared that much.

The tables were aligned in rows, with bright lamps on each individual one. It was hard to make out facial features with those lights shining in all the people’s faces, so Ivan scanned the rows for long black hair. And oh god there he was. He was in the third row, big red button up rolled up to his elbows and his nose buried in some book that didn’t look like a cook book and a stack of thick hardbound books on the desk. Ivan didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t have any books with him so he couldn’t sit without being suspicious, but he didn’t want to leave because he might lose sight of the Chinese man.

But what did that matter? What is it with this guy, Ivan? Pull yourself together you’ve never been like this before. Stop acting like a girl.

Looking around, he noticed a stack of books abandoned in the second row. He took one of these and sat at a table, facing toward the Chinese man.

He pretended to read, glancing up occasionally to catch a glimpse of the man’s face across the aisle. And he made the cutest expressions. His eyes would sparkle at parts, and he’d have to look up, away from the book. Ivan would quickly look back to his book at the occasions, but not before cataloguing the almost childlike face and perpetual blush, the hastily cut bangs or chocolate eyes.

Then the man would look back down at his book and be immersed once more. He smiled or frowned or stifled a laugh in the most adorable way Ivan had ever seen. He would never, ever admit that, though. No sir, Ivan did not use the terms ‘adorable’ or ‘cutest’ to describe anything. Definitely not another man.

\--

He had the night off, so he went home to his apartment, sat on the couch, and popped open a bottle of vodka. It’s cheap and flat, but it’s better than nothing. The radio was on, but the English was too fast for him to understand yet. He’d catch most of it but then a word or two would go by and he wouldn’t understand and he’d miss the meaning of the whole verse. He mourned leaving his cassettes back home with Yekaterina.

Taking another pull from the bottle, his thoughts returned to the Chinese man in the library. He briefly wondered if, if he went back tomorrow, he’d be able to see him again. This was gonna get to be a problem, wasn’t it?

It was getting to be nearly eleven, and Ivan knew there was a slim chance of Katerina being online, but he pulled his laptop onto his lap and logged into Skype anyway.

Today, Thursday June 27

Ivan Braginski:

                Had interesting day. Library here is very big, but didn’t have much in Russian.

                How was your day?

And Ivan left it at that, not really expecting something, as he logged into his email. There was one message in his inbox, about some sale going on. He logged out and went to Facebook.

He had one friend request. Tino Väinämöinen. Ivan sighed—it wasn’t like he could ignore it—as he accepted. His homepage was almost instantly flooded with Tino’s statuses and pictures (quite a few of which included Berwald).

Before he had time to think about this, a bleeping sound returned his attention to the Skype window.

Yekaterina Braginskya

                Oh, you went to library? That’s good. You should probably start practicing your English more, you know.

                Natalya is at a friend’s house.

Ivan Braginski

                I did not actually expect to catch you. What are you doing on?

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                You remember that it’s 10 am here, right?

Ivan Braginski:

                Ah, yes? I thought you were working.

                Also, that ‘friend’ of Natalya’s better not be friend of the male gender.

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Haha, you’re funny. His name is Toris and he’s quite nice young boy.

                And I’ve got day off today.

Ivan Braginski:

                I am not convinced of that. If he hurts Natalya I’m coming home and I’m going to hurt him.

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Ivan!

                They are not even dating. They’re just friends; her study group just met at his house tonight.

Ivan Braginski:

                Are there other boys in this study group? I’ll break their arms.

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Honestly Ivan if I thought Natalya was in any danger with these boys do you think any of them would still have their eyes?

                And if you come home you’ll lose your green card and I’d have to wring your neck.

                So tell me more about Seattle. Have you been able to go walk around yet? Aside from the library

Ivan Braginski:

                Not yet…

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Have you made any attempt to meet new people?

Ivan Braginski:

                Not yet…

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Ivan. You need to work on that.

                I need to go now, bye!

Ivan Braginski:

                Bye…

Yekaterina Braginskya has left the conversation.

Ivan sighed and went back to his internet browser, throwing back that last swig of liquid in his bottle.

Tino had uploaded a new photo, this one of Matthias and some other blond on a red couch. Ivan had to laugh to himself, because the other man did not look happy with Matthias’ hand on his shoulder.

Ivan went back to have another drink of his vodka and remembered it was empty. As he stood he started to feel a little woozy, but he shrugged it off and made his way to grab more from the kitchen.

When he came back to his computer, Katerina had sent another message:

Yekaterina Braginskya:

                Also, you better not be drinking. It’s not good for your health or social status.

If there was anyone who really knew Ivan, it was that woman. Feeling somewhat unsettled by how well Katerina had him figured out, he logged off of Skype.

(And popped open the new bottle.)


	3. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the next day, Ivan made his way back to the library. And if anyone asked (not that anyone would), he was going to brush up on his ‘English’ as his sister had advised him to.
> 
> He went to the shelf nearest the entrance and grabbed the first book there was, and headed upstairs. To read it. Obviously.
> 
> He did the same the next day. And the day after. In fact he did it every day that week, and beyond that.
> 
> To brush up on his English, that is.
> 
> If he happened to figure out the Chinese man’s exact library-visiting schedule, that was just a coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully I have no idea how long I'm planning for this to go w o w im so sorry

So the next day, Ivan made his way back to the library. And if anyone asked (not that anyone would), he was going to brush up on his ‘English’ as his sister had advised him to.

He went to the shelf nearest the entrance and grabbed the first book there was, and headed upstairs. To read it. Obviously.

He did the same the next day. And the day after. In fact he did it every day that week, and beyond that.

To brush up on his English, that is.

If he happened to figure out the Chinese man’s exact library-visiting schedule, that was just a coincidence.

Ivan liked to tell himself that.

The fact that Ivan’s visit to the library only ever coincided with the other’s schedule was another total coincidence. Yeah.

But how could he help himself? Some days, he’ll look up from the page he’s not been reading to see the little smile or laugh on the Chinese face, others he’ll see a deep set frown, eyebrows knit together as he stared blankly at the thick text book in front of him. Some days he had an iPod, which he hummed to as he flipped through cookbooks and recipes (Ivan still didn’t know what the thing with the cookbooks was). One day Ivan swore he saw the other man wiping a tear away with his big red sleeve (he always wore some ridiculously huge red top).

And that was another peculiar thing, on top of the cake books he always had. He always, _always_ wore red. It got to the point that in Ivan’s head, he began referring to him simply as ‘Red’.

Ivan felt himself growing illogically fond of Red, too. It was strange because he never really grows _fond_ of people. The only people in his life he can honestly say that he’s affectionate toward are his sisters. Their father left them when he was young and he can’t really remember his mother, and the other children in his village growing up were undesirable as friends. But as he looks up now and sees that brilliant smile on the Chinese man’s face, he can’t help but smile too.

Great, now he’s going soft.

Every so often, a cute Asian librarian (also Chinese, perhaps?) would come by and talk to Red, bring him books or take away the ones he’s read. They would smile and talk quietly for a moment, and Ivan stubbornly ignored that possessive instinct of jealousy he felt in his gut. Chances were they were friends, and friends only. Maybe she was just a very friendly librarian? Either way, the array of pinks she worked into her outfit every day was mildly impressive.

That Tuesday, Red was sitting there, reading a book (which appeared pretty good, judging by how enthralled he was with it), when some guy walked by and recognized him. Ivan watched as he came up behind him as he was reading and got his attention. Red obviously recognized the guy as well, but not fondly. The guy talked to him insistently even as he turned back to his book, obviously uncomfortable. Red tried to tell him to go away (Ivan could tell because of his body language) but the guy ignored him.

 Ivan felt the urge to intervene. He was just about to, in fact, when the guy gave up and left. Ivan glared at the back of his head as he went.

Now Red looked uncomfortable, even as he settled back into reading. He must have become very uncomfortable after talking to that guy, because he packed his things up and left about an hour earlier than he usually did on Tuesdays.

Ivan frowned as he watched him go. It would be awkward for Ivan to leave right after him, so he turned back to the random book he had grabbed that day. He couldn’t help wondering, though, who that guy was and what he was saying that made Red so uncomfortable.

He read a chapter or so more of his book, and left soon after. Apparently he had picked up a book called _Call of the Wild_. Ivan had always liked dogs, so the book made him somewhat upset, and it was easy to put it down.

He collected his items and went home, where he heated up a microwave dinner before dressing for work. He put a long tan pea coat on over his black security shirt and locked the door on his way out.

It had been somewhat sunny when Ivan had left the library, but now it was sprinkling lightly and the wind had picked up. It would probably be pouring down rain by the time he got to Circes Island. He should’ve grabbed his scarf before he left.

About half way to the club, he was passing by a dirtier part of town with dark alleys and shady looking people on every corner. He kept his head down and looked up minimally.

Out of the corner of his eye, though, he caught a glimpse of red. He paused (totally not thinking that maybe it was Red) and turned around, easily spotting the red garment he’d seen.  And sure enough, there was that silky ponytail spilling over the back of the Chinese man’s red hoodie as he walked away.

Ivan was so stunned he stood there watching Red walk away, and before he knew it the man reached the corner and turned around it, out of sight.

Without thinking, Ivan followed. A bright red hoodie is anything but inconspicuous amongst the gray skies and people of Seattle. He wasn’t walking very fast, and his stride was shorter than Ivan’s, so he had to walk languidly behind in order to keep a safe, inconspicuous distance (though following someone who you’ve been watching at the library for weeks is really suspicious anyway, isn’t it?).

Neither Red nor Ivan saw the man crossing the street toward Red until he called out.

“Eh! Yao! Fancy bumping into you again! Must be my lucky day.”

Ivan could see Red—Yao?—stiffen up from where he watched. And it was the same guy from the library, hailing him down. Yao visibly pretended to have not heard him, but that was not deterring the guy.

“Yao! Buddy, wait up!” he hollered, half-jogging up behind Yao, now that he’d reached the sidewalk. Yao deflated, and stopped to wait for the guy to catch up. As soon as he could, the guy threw an amiable arm over Yao’s shoulders. Yao stiffened even further, but the man ignored it, and began talking. Ivan couldn’t hear him anymore, but he could sense that Yao was uncomfortable, and that he wanted to get away from this guy.

He needed to intervene. They were on a relatively empty street, and if Yao got into danger with this man, there would be no one else to help him. Thinking quickly, Ivan picked up his pace so he was nearly behind the two as they walked awkwardly, the other man’s arm still on Yao’s shoulder. Ivan could smell the dope on the other man.

“Y-Yao?” Ivan asked, suddenly hesitant. Yao’s head snapped back, glad for a distraction from the ugly man leaning on his shoulder. “Is that you?” Ivan ventured to continue.

“Uh… do I know you?”

The man leaning on Yao eyed Ivan over Yao’s shoulder, sizing him up.

“Yeah, yeah we went to…” Ivan paused, trying to give Yao some sign to play along, “high school together.” His eyes flickered over to the man with Yao, who had released Yao in favor of grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lighting one up. “I’m Alex? Remember?” Ivan stared imploringly into Yao’s eyes.

Luckily, it clicked. “Oh yeah! Hey Alex! You’re looking well.”

Ah yeah. He was supposed to be giving Yao some kind of excuse to get away from his ‘friend’. “Yeah, wow, you too. We should catch up some time.”

His friend, catching on, had moved to lean an arm back over Yao’s shoulder, but Yao moved away, letting the guy stumble. “Well, what do you know, I don’t have anything going on right now. Why don’t we go to a bar? Jay, man we’ll talk some other time, okay?”

The ‘friend’ looked rather ruffled, but he just cursed and flicked his cigarette onto the sidewalk and walked away, taking the smell of pot with him.

“Ha,” Yao rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “thanks for that. Did you really go to high school with me?” Yao asked as soon as the other was out of earshot. This close, Ivan could tell Yao was about eight inches shorter than him, and older than he had appeared from a distance. He was looking up at Ivan gratefully, and Ivan felt like he was going to throw up due to nerves.

“Er, no. I just -- you looked like you’d like way out of… that?” Ivan shrugged, knowing that he sounded nervous.

Yao looked visibly relieved, but still a little weary now that his ‘friend’ was gone. He nodded gratefully and readjusted a book bag strap on his shoulder.

“Would you like me to… walk you to your home?” Ivan asked, concerned and wondering if he could help remove that stiff, uncomfortable posture Yao had.

Yao looked somewhat alarmed at this proposal though, and Ivan instantly regretted it. Did he use an awkward English phrase by mistake?

“Ah, yeah, no thanks. I mean, thank you, but I’m going somewhere.” And with that he turned and left with an awkward smile back at Ivan.

 _Damn it, Braginski you fucked up big time now. I wonder if he recognized me? I don’t think he did. He must never notice me, then._ Ivan didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved by that thought.

Checking the time on his watch, he realized he had five minutes to walk ten blocks to the Circes Island now. Shit.

* * *

“Braginski, you’re’a late,” his boss said as he burst through the backdoor of the club. “Back up, bastard.”

Mr. Vargas and Antonio, his boyfriend-or-something, appeared from a dark corner of the back room.

“Ivan, what the hell. You’re twenty minutes late and I already called Sadiq in to cover for you. And you didn’t answer your phone you damn bastard.” If it was anyone else talking to Ivan this way he’d have a thing or two to say in response. But this was Lovino Vargas, and this was how he addressed people. “Berwald and Sadiq have it covered already. You can go home. Figure out how to pay Sadiq back.”

Ivan took all of this in silently, and felt almost bad for causing such an inconvenience to Sadiq.

Antonio smiled and waved as he dragged Lovino off, out of the backroom and into the main dance floor room.

Now Ivan could go home and not have any distractions from thoughts of his embarrassing encounter with Red—or Yao, now that he actually knew his name—or he could go out to the bar and have a drink. A vodka did sound pretty good right about now.


	4. That Attitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yekaterina Braginskya
> 
> Isn’t it really early there, Ivan? You can’t make friends by sleeping in all day!
> 
> Go to sleep!
> 
> Are you going to the library again tomorrow?
> 
> You seem to go a lot…
> 
> Is there something—or someone ;) – you’re not telling us about?
> 
> Ivan Braginski
> 
> No, I’m not going to the library tomorrow.
> 
> You’re right, I should sleep. Bye.

When Ivan woke the next morning his head was swimming. He squinted and clasped a hand over his eyes when tried opening them, his memory of the night before a daze.

All he really remembered was a black ponytail and Tino’s concerned expression. Did he help Ivan home last night? Ivan certainly didn’t remember getting himself home.

Either way, he stumbled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, trying to avoid turning any lights on. He was starving. Did he eat dinner last night? Probably not: he usually had a late lunch and an even later dinner, making something quick after he got off his shift.

He poured himself some of his cheap cereal and saw his phone plugged into a charger by the fridge. The blinking red light told him he had a text.

In fact, he had several.

_Sadiq: Man you owe me big time. I had a date tonight._

_Tino: Are you all right? Why is Sadiq here?_

_Tino: Text me when you wake up in the morning. You were pretty wasted._

_Alfred: I don’t know if you remember this but you threw up on my shoes last night. You’re gonna be so hung over in the morning, dude!_

Well, apparently he drank a lot more than he had planned to.

He sat down on his threadbare couch with his bowl and began to eat. Maybe he’d go down to the library once he felt better. Today was Wednesday so Yao would be there…

Yao. How’d he figure out Yao’s name again?

And suddenly all the embarrassment from yesterday’s encounter with the Chinese came rushing back.

Oh god, he couldn’t go back to the library today. Not when Yao was there. He just couldn’t bear the shame of being recognized or approached. He had one chance to make a good impression on his crush (crush? When did he start thinking of him like that??) and he blew it big time. Fuck.

He guessed he’d just have to avoid the library on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Friday, Saturdays, and Mondays between twelve and four from now on.

* * *

Yao walked home quickly and silently, keeping his head down and eyes on the sidewalk.

It had been bad enough to run into Jay at the library, but far worse to run into him again mere hours later on the street. He had been so relieved when he heard that soft Russian voice call out to him.

And that brought him to more curious thoughts: who was that ‘Alex’? Why had he felt the need to step in? It was rather strange.

And, why did Yao have this niggling feeling that he knew him from somewhere? He vaguely recognized the pale face and silver hair, but where from? Yao continued to ponder this all the way home.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Kiku: _Can you pick up vegetable oil we’re out._

Yao sighed and typed out a positive response: _Yeah, I’m right by Uwajimaya. Need anything else?_

Kiku texted back almost automatically. _Maybe some seaweed? I can’t tell if we’ll have enough for the next week. And some ramune. Thanks._

Yao sighed, and his thoughts returned to the soft spoken Russian. He tried to place the face as he made his way to the store.

He continued to try to place his face as he walked through the aisles at Uwajimaya.

He continued as he waited in line.

He continued as he carried the bag home.

He continued as he walked up the five stories to Kiku and his apartment.

And, right as he reached for the knob, carefully balancing the second bag against his side, he realized where he knew that face from.

The library. Nearly every day Yao was there, the Russian man was there also, sitting for hours at the study table but getting nowhere in the seemingly random book he was reading that day.

* * *

Ivan stayed home that day, and walked to work a new way that week in case Yao happened to walk down the same street again.

It was starting to get very crisp in the morning and at night, and his scarf was necessary to go anywhere. Tino said it looked good on him.

It had been over a week now since their encounter on the streets, and Ivan had not been to the library since. Ivan felt rather cowardly about that, but it was much better than being embarrassed even further.

It was Saturday, and Sadiq, Berwald and Ivan were all working. Berwald was out by the door, while Sadiq and Ivan covered inside. Ivan thought Sadiq was fucking annoying, but he ignored it in favor of professionalism.

Tonight there was a particularly rowdy crowd, and at the heart of it all were Gilbert Beilschmidt and Francis Bonnefoy.

The short story is that these were two of the most obnoxious asshole patrons the club had to put up with.

The long story is that one time Francis flirted with Tino and upset Berwald, and then Gilbert tried to start a fight with Ivan but was too drunk to punch straight. But they were the boss’ boyfriend’s friends, so they were pretty much exempt from being banned.

Today, the Frenchmen was on the dance floor, and Ivan couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he could clearly hear the profanities being called by the German.

“Hey, cut it out,” Ivan heard Sadiq order, even over the booming music.

The German mumbled something, but quieted down, the Frencmen appearing at his side.

Ivan rolled his eyes; as always, there was a trail of men eyeing Bonnefoy.

Beilschmidt made a show of disdain as he slunk away, tailed by his right hand man.

“If you ask me,” Sadiq yelled over the music to Ivan, “I don’t care who they’re friends with. It’s bad business having them in here. One of these days Berwald’s going to knock some teeth in of theirs and teach ‘em a lesson. I would, if I were still young like the two of you.”

Ivan agreed with his point, but was annoyed by the last comment. Sadiq wasn’t even that much older than Ivan or Berwald, but liked to act like he was, as a superiority thing. In reality, Berwald was two years older than Ivan, at 23, and Sadiq was just 25.

But Ivan nodded, and Sadiq went over to the bar as Arthur beckoned him.

The rest of the night was pretty slow.

When Ivan went home, at nearly 4 am, he was not tired enough to sleep. Rather, he pulled out his laptop and played around online.

Eventually he got bored and logged onto Skype. Surprisingly, Yekaterina was online.

_Ivan Braginski_

_Katerina?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Oh hey big brother_

_This is Natalya_

_Ivan Braginski_

_Hi Nat, how is St. Petersburg?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Fine. Kat asks if you’ve made friend yet._

Ivan sighed. He seemed to do that a lot when talking to his sisters.

_Ivan Braginski_

_No, I’ve been working too much._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Not making friends with your co-workers, either? That doesn’t make for a very healthy work place, Ivan_

_Ivan Braginski_

_Natalya please stop. I came here to work and make money. I can make friends later._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_With that attitude you’re gonna wake up in twenty five years completely disappointed with your life_

_Yekaterina agrees with me_

_Ivan Braginskia_

_Gonna?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Going to, it’s like a slang term, I guess._

_Ivan Braginski_

_I don’t know what slang means either._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_That is beside the point. Point is: make friends, dammit. Maybe they could help you learn English, too._

_Ivan Braginski_

_Yeah…_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Isn’t it really early there, Ivan? You can’t make friends by sleeping in all day!_

_Go to sleep!_

_Are you going to the library again tomorrow?_

_You seem to go a lot…_

_Is there something—or someone ;) – you’re not telling us about?_

_Ivan Braginski_

_No, I’m not going to the library tomorrow._

_You’re right, I should sleep. Bye._

 

_Ivan Braginski has left the conversation._

* * *

Ivan did not go the library that day.

Nor the next day, or the day after that.

It felt weird not to, though. It had become his sort of routine on those days he knew he’d see Yao there—breakfast, library, home, snack, work, dinner. Now he sat at home or went over to the park and read his library books.

He got a lot more reading done without the… distractions of the library setting, but he felt something was missing from the experience.

That was just too bad though, because he couldn’t go back to the library now, not with how embarrassed he still was. No sir, not an option.

Over the weeks that he had spent constantly at the library he had checked out about ten books, and over the one week he spent away from the library, he read all of them.

He wanted to go get more but he abstained. He even began reading through them a second time, when a library notice came in the mail.

He had a due book.

Now he _had_ to go back to the library.


	5. Pumpkin Spice Lattes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What? No, I was flustered and did not thank you properly. Please accept a coffee with me, despite my having been rude.” Yao bowed his head slightly, seemingly embarrassed by his ‘rude’ actions.
> 
> What? Ivan was surprised, but it’s not like he could say no, could he? “D-sure, I guess. I do not understand why, though.” He mumbled the last part, barely loud enough for Yao to hear, and the Chinese man appeared to either not hear it or ignore it altogether. 
> 
> “Great! I know a really great place near here.” And then Ivan was being dragged by the sleeve out the door and into the cloudy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am 2 tired to proof read this rn im sorry if i have any mistakes wow  
> also, send me reviews on my tumblr! ivanbroginski.tumblr.com <3

Now that Yao knew where he recognized ‘Alex’ from, he felt terribly bad that he hadn’t even thanked him properly for helping him out. Briefly he wondered if the man had followed Yao from the library, but quickly shot that thought from his head.

Maybe he could catch him at the library next time Yao went, and invite him out for coffee or something? Yes, that was a good idea. He’d pay for both of them, and relieve his conscious.

Except, the next day when Yao went, the Russian was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t there the next day, either. Maybe he had a new shift at work and came to the library on a different schedule now?

This thought caused Yao to come more often, spending every free hour sitting and reading cookbooks and waiting for the other man to finally show up. He had just started to worry when his sister approached him.

“You’re looking for that Russian who always sits over there, aren’t you? I haven’t seen him in a while,” she said, sliding a Martha Stewart magazine in front of him.

He thanked her for the read and asked defensively, “How would you even know if I was looking for him? Can’t I just come to the library?”

“Yeah, but you’ve been coming more often than usual, and he’s been coming less. I thought you knew him? You two were always on the same schedule, I thought. You weren’t? Wow,  that makes him always watching you kinda creepy, huh?”

“He… what?”

Mei sighed exasperatedly. “In a cute way, Yao; stop overreacting. He looks like a sweetie. A really big, intimidating sweetie.” She took the seat beside him, “Don’t you think?”

“Wh-what?” Yao sputtered.

“He _is_ pretty cute, isn’t he?”

“Xiao Mei, you need to stop. Do not. Aren’t you supposed to be working or something?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work in like, fifteen minutes?”

“Oh,” Yao’s eyes widened, looking at his watch. “Shit.”

* * *

Ivan dreaded turning the book in. It would only take a second, but what if he ran into Yao? He wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment of it.

He opened the library door slowly, holding it for as many people as possible. He surveyed the bookshelves, especially in the cookbook area, as he headed toward the turn-in box.

 _In ‘n’ out, real quick, Braginski,_ he thought. Vaguely, he saw the pink librarian, Yao’s friend, out of the corner of his eye.

The distance between the turn-in box, across the room from the door, had never felt so long before. It had also never felt so crowded at the front desk before.

He edged around a Korean kid who kept making big hand movements as he explained something to his friend, nearly smacking Ivan in the face. As soon as he reached the turn-in, he slid the two books into the slot.

Okay, he made it without any sign of Yao. Good.

He turned around quickly, anxious to get out and go home, and ran right into someone who had been standing behind him. Ivan’s larger structure sent the other sprawling, books flying, and Ivan automatically leapt forward to help the man up, apologizing profusely.

The obnoxious redness of the t-shirt didn’t register until it was too late for a retreat.

“Ai! Hey it’s you! I’ve been waiting to see you again!” Yao exclaimed upon recognizing Ivan. “I felt so bad about the other day!” he said, brushing himself off.

Ivan sheepishly bent down to collect Yao’s books. “You feel sorry? Do not. I…” Ivan didn’t know what he did, but he knew he did something so, “I did something that made you uncomfortable, so _I_ am sorry.”

“What? No, I was flustered and did not thank you properly. Please accept a coffee with me, despite my having been rude.” Yao bowed his head slightly, seemingly embarrassed by his ‘rude’ actions.

 _What?_ Ivan was surprised, but it’s not like he could say no, could he? “D-sure, I guess. I do not understand why, though.” He mumbled the last part, barely loud enough for Yao to hear, and the Chinese man appeared to either not hear it or ignore it altogether.      

“Great! I know a really great place near here.” And then Ivan was being dragged by the sleeve out the door and into the cloudy day.

When they got onto the sidewalk Yao slowed to walk beside him. Ivan had no idea what to say or do. He didn’t want to stare at Yao, so he avoided looking at him altogether. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing again, so he abstained from saying anything. Luckily, Yao carried the conversation by himself.

“It’s getting chilly, huh? That probably means they’ll have a nice pumpkin spice latte now. Have you ever heard of Symposium Coffee? It’s a coffee shop one of my friends co-owns with her ex-husband. I thought it was going to be awkward after they got divorced, but luckily it wasn’t.”

Ivan smiled as he listened to him babble on about his friend—name Elizaveta, apparently—and somehow get to the topic of how chai tea has gotten so changed and Americanized. “You see, I know a lot about teas and herbs because my mother used to own an herbal remedies shop in China Town.  My family still owns one of the oldest acupuncture clinics in Seattle, up in the International District; I suppose that’s the correct name for it.”

He continued on with his random tangents of thought as they walked down the sloping hills of downtown Seattle.

“What do you think?” Yao asked him suddenly.

Ivan hadn’t been listening for the last block and a half, so he didn’t know how to respond. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

“Global Warming, do you think it’s true?”

“I don’t know,” Ivan started cautiously. “Ah… all I know is that my uncle always told us how easy we had it. Apparently our Russian winters aren’t as cold as what he grew up with. But…”

“Oh, we’re here!” Yao pulled open the door and Ivan entered, thanking him.

They were greeted by piano music and a central European woman calling “Hello, Yao! How are you today?”

“I am very well. Do you have your pumpkin spice latte again?”

“Yes, of course. Would you like two?”

Ivan looked about the shop. It was moderately sized, with a grand piano in the far corner. A man in a long blue pea coat was playing, his unruly hair bouncing as he moved with the music.

Yao looked briefly over at Ivan, and then nodded yes. “Sixteen ounce, please,” he said as he pulled out his wallet.

Ivan hadn’t even noticed that Yao had ordered and paid before he was being led, once again by the sleeve, to a table near the door.

“We’ll walk with our coffees; I have to work soon,” Yao explained. “So you grew up in Russia, you said? What part?”

“Er… St. Petersburg.”

“Ah, yeah? That’s where St. Basil’s Cathedral is, right? Have you ever seen it?”

“Oh, no. I’m actually from the outskirts, about an hour away from any of the tourist stuff. It’s still St. Petersburg, though.”

“That’s funny. I have an English friend who lived in London for two years as a student, but claims he only ever saw his campus and the pubs at night. I find that so hard to believe, and would not ever believe it if it were anyone but him.”

Ivan laughed. That sound like Arthur.

“So you speak Russian, yeah?” Yao continued.

“A lot better than English, da. I mean- yes.”

Yao laughed. Ivan was suddenly very nervous, butterflies swarming around in his stomach. Oh god, he was going to embarrass himself again, wasn’t he?

“Two pumpkin spice lattes, Yao,” Elizaveta called from the counter.

Yao smiled as he got up. He took his time getting the coffee. He hoped Ivan didn’t notice how nervous he was. His hands were shaking and he knew he was babbling. He talked a lot when he was nervous.

As he collected the drinks, Elizaveta came and grabbed his arm. “Hey, who’s your friend?”

“Uh, I’m just paying him back a favor.”

“A ‘favor’, eh?” she waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Not like that, god Elizaveta.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Yao glared and returned to the table, handing Ivan his. Ivan had been listening to Roderich intently.

The piece was something by Bach, Ivan knew. He tried to figure it out as he stood and took the cup from Yao.

“Thanks, Liz!” Yao called as the two of them set out again. “Try your coffee, you’ll love it I promise.”

Yao watched as he took his first drink.

“What do you think?” he asked hopefully. “It is sweeter than I expected.  I usually take mine black.”

“But it’s good, yeah?”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

Yao smiled and took a sip of his own cup.

Several moments passed silently. Ivan fiddled with the lid of his coffee, which hadn’t been securely sealed onto the lip of the cup.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I didn’t point Roderich out to you. Remember, he was the one I was talking about, Liz’s ex? Yeah, he owns the place, technically, but Liz does all the work, to be honest. Sometimes he can be very nice, but other times he’s a total dick.”

Ivan nodded. He would describe both of his own sisters similarly.

Silence ensued once more.

Yao was freaking out. Why? He didn’t know. He had not thought this all through. This encounter, their second one now, seemed to be going on and on, awkwardly dragging into a silent affair save the sound of Yao sipping his coffee and the wind now bearing down on them. What should he say?

“So, I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

“Aah—“ How awkward! He had told Yao his name was Alex before. Should he tell him the truth now? “Ivan.”

“You mean to say that you’re Ivan—from St. Petersburg? You’re like a walking incarnation of all Russian stereotypes, aren’t you? Do you drink vodka, too?”

“More often than I should…”

“Huh, I’ve never tried vodka. I’m a bit of a light weight to be honest. I think I’d be on the floor after one glass.”

Ivan shrugged. “I supposed you just need to get accustomed to it.”

Yao laughed, and seemed to contemplate Ivan for a moment before asking, “How old are you?”

“Aah… twenty one. Why?”

“Oh. You look a lot older than you are. Or, at least, you seem like it.”

“Oh.”  
“I’m sorry, was that rude? I didn’t mean for it to be.” Yao straightened visibly, suddenly apologetic.

No, no. It’s just no one’s ever said that before.”

“Oh.” Yao glanced at his watch. “Shoot, I’m running late. Can you find your way back to the library from here?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you for the coffee.”

“No problem, thank you for helping me the other day. See you at the library, probably!” Yao waved one more time and turned, walking speedily down toward the waterfront.

As soon as he was out of sight, Ivan threw his coffee into the trash. He felt bad doing so, but he could not take how sweet it was. Coffee was not meant to be like that.


	6. The Song of Ivan Braginski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Ivan went to the library. Tino had texted him again, but Ivan ignored him this time. There was no way he was going to the gym right now. He was going to get to the library before Yao today, according to his observations of Yao’s schedule.
> 
> He grabbed a random book and went to his normal table. His book seemed to be a modern account on the life of some Greek figure from ancient times.
> 
> Fifteen minutes later, Yao arrived. He saw that Ivan was there, smiled, and asked if he could sit by him.

That night, before the club opened, Matthias and Sadiq approached Ivan near the bar.

“Eh, Ivan, my man,” Matthias started, patting Ivan roughly on the shoulder.

“You been working here a couple of months and we been thinking,” Sadiq continued.

“You should start working out with us!” Matthias finished with a huge smile.

Ivan looked at the two of them before responding, “I don’t have money for gym membership… thank you for offering though.”

“No, no, no bro. The boss’ pops owns a gym in the city. He lets Berwald and I work out for free and gives a discount to the rest of Romano’s employees.”

“You could probably get by for free.”

“I’ll text you the address later, kay?” Sadiq said, waving his phone at him.

They left him then, Sadiq heading to the door and Matthias starting to sound-test the equipment on stage.

“I go there, too, a lot of the times. And so do two of our other friends,” Tino piped up, wiping out some shot glasses with a rag. “Yeah, you should come by and meet them some time. You might like them.”

Ivan nodded and smiled for Tino.

Tino smiled back and went about wiping up the bar.

Ivan did not plan to go to the gym.

* * *

The next day, Ivan was half way to the library when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was Tino. _Are you coming to the gym today?_

Ivan stopped to text back. _I had not planned on it._

Almost immediately Tino replied. _You should come by, just to check it out. Please?_

Ivan sighed. _Sure. What’s the address again?_

* * *

Ivan caught the bus to Sodo region and found the gym within a half hour.

The gym was called ‘The Arena’ and it was in a stone building near a Starbucks (which isn’t saying much, as it _is_ in downtown Seattle).

When Ivan entered he was greeted by an empty reception room. “Uh, hello?” he asked, looking around the receptionist’s desk.

“Oh!” A thump came from the backrrom. “Ah, one moment!” There was a shifting of boxes, and suddenly a brunet boy popped up behind the desk, “Ve, hello! How can I help you?”

Ivan was taken aback by the man’s appearance. He looked remarkably like Romano…

“Oh you must be Ivan! Tino told me you were coming. I’m Feliciano, and Romano is my big brother!” he exclaimed, talking extravagantly with his hands. “I could tell you were wondering that; you looked sorta confused. We’re twins!” He spoke very quickly, with a strange accent, and Ivan slowly processed what he was saying. He had a different way of talking, and Ivan didn’t know if he liked it at all.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Ve, great! You can go ahead into the gym. Do you not have a bag? When you do, you can just ask me for a locker key.”

Ivan nodded, thanked him, and went through the door to the right of the receptionist’s desk.

They gym was good-sized, not quite as big as most chain-owned ones, but also nothing to sneeze at.

At the far side of the gym was the weight-lifting area. A muscular man with sleeked back blond hair was lifting a considerable weight, as a brunet man (who also remarkably resembled Romano, but much older) was spotting him.

The only other inhabitants right now were on the full-body machines along the left wall of the gym. Tino and company were perched across two or three of these machines.

As soon as Tino saw Ivan, he hailed him over and introduced him to the two friends he’d talked about.

Their names were Emil and Lukas, and Ivan could tell they were brothers. Neither of them looked very happy to be there (which is funny: why would they be there then, if they didn’t want to be?).

Matthias, who had been pressing some weights together in front of his chest (Ivan did not know the name of the machine), paused to greet Ivan, pat him roughly on the shoulder, and get a drink of water. Berwald just continued what he was doing and grunted vaguely, his version of ‘hello’. Tino gave Berwald a look before turning his attention to Ivan.

“I am just so glad you came. Sadiq was here a minute ago, but he got a call and had to leave,” Tino explained. “He looked rather upset…”

“Upset? He was fucking furious,” Emil provided.

“Must be fighting with his boy again, then.”

The five of them nodded, exasperated, in agreement with Lukas. Ivan felt like he was missing something.

Matthias adjusted to lift the weights at the foot of the bench, working his thighs and calves now. Lukas sat on the bench behind him, picking absently at his nails. Lukas had such an expression of disinterest that one couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed.

Tino pulled up two stools, and motioned for Ivan to sit down. He did, and the five of them seemed to fall back into a conversation they had been having before (Actually, it was more accurately four of them falling back into said conversation; Berwald stayed completely silent save for when Tino addressed a question directly at him. Matthias also addressed questions toward Berwald, but Berwald ignored him).

Maybe twenty minutes later, Sadiq returned, looking wet and disgruntled. “It’s fucking raining.”

“Wow thank you for pointing that out. It’s almost like we live in Seattle or something.”

“Shut up, Lukas,” Sadiq spat, pulling off his shirt and wringing it out. “Hey Ivan,” he added as an afterthought.

“What happened that you had to leave?” Tino asked, concerned, as Sadiq dragged a stool up next to Ivan.

Sadiq sighed deeply as he sat down heavily. “Herakles is just being so…” he trailed off and sighed again, rubbing his forehead.

Matthias laughed under his breath, eliciting a glare from both Sadiq and Lukas as he glanced at the Norwegian seated behind him. “Yeah, I know, man.” Lukas struck him over the head.

Emil laughed also, and Lukas kicked him.

* * *

Later, Ivan had run out of time to visit the library, so he went straight home.

He did not have work that night, and he wondered what to do with the extra time.

He went to the cupboard to look for a bottle of vodka. There was none. He’d have to pick some up.

The liquor store was three blocks away. And it was raining. And dark.

Ivan went anyway.

When he returned a half hour later, he was wet and cold. It wasn’t very cold compared to what he grew up with, but he was still cold. He was soaked to the bone.

He set the bottles on the counter and went to take a hot shower.

The next day, Ivan went to the library. Tino had texted him again, but Ivan ignored him this time. There was no way he was going to the gym right now. He was going to get to the library before Yao today, according to his observations of Yao’s schedule.

He grabbed a random book and went to his normal table. His book seemed to be a modern account on the life of some Greek figure from ancient times.

Fifteen minutes later, Yao arrived. He saw that Ivan was there, smiled, and asked if he could sit by him.

Flustered, Ivan just nodded, and Yao took a seat.

Yao opened the first book on today’s two foot thick stack; a Japanese text on desserts. Yao started flipping through pages filed with strange-looking dishes. He stopped about half way through the book, and started to read.

_He can read Japanese?_

It was harder to sneak glances at him from this proximity, but that was okay.

Yao sifted through his giant stack of cookbooks over the next hour, occasionally copying down a recipe into the red notebook that Ivan had never noticed before.

Ivan hadn’t been paying much attention to his own book since Yao arrived, but when Yao was finished with his books, he glanced over to what Ivan was reading.

“Ai, I loved that book! Did you read the _Iliad_ , too?” Yao asked excitedly, leaning over to read what part Ivan was in.

“Uh…” _Shit._ “I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh.” Yao looked disappointed, and Ivan felt rather bad, though he knew it wasn’t really his fault he had never heard of the book. “You should read it. It’s a classic, one of Homer’s.” Yao was restacking his books and standing, getting ready to leave.

“I was thinking it would be nice to get coffee again, but I work early tonight. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh,” Ivan said dumbly. “Yeah. What time?”

“I don’t know, we’ll probably see each other here. Then we can walk there together whenever.”

“Okay.” Ivan didn’t know what else to say.

“Okay,” Yao agreed, taking his books, and leaving. His hands were shaking as he went down the stairs.

“Okay,” Ivan said again, to himself, as soon as Yao was out of sight. He looked back down at the book and recalled how excited Yao had gotten when he saw it in Ivan’s hands. He read the blurb. It was a book about the Greek warrior Achilles and his friend Patroclus, and their not-necessarily-just-friends relationship. Oh.

But Ivan was still curious about this ‘ _Iliad’_ that Yao spoke of.

The pink librarian came by then, collecting books that had been left by people.

“Excuse me, where could I find a copy of the _Iliad_?”

* * *

That night, Ivan struggled to read through the first chapter of the _Iliad_. He had a headache by the time he gave up; there were too many words he didn’t recognize, and the sentence structures were really fucking with his head.

And now, with silence and nothing to read, it dawned upon him that he kinda had a… _thing_ with Yao tomorrow (He refused to call it a date. Just two guys having coffee together, is all).  

He was lucky to get through the other day without screwing up. How was tomorrow going to go?

 _Don’t think so much about it, Braginski_. He pulled out his laptop to check Skype. He had several messages from Yekaterina.

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Hi Ivan!_

_How’s it going?_

_Natalya is looking at colleges right now_

_Do you think University of Washington is good school?_

_I think she’s going to apply there_

It had been a while since Ivan had been on, obviously.

_Ivan Braginski_

_Do you really think she’d move so close to me? Hopefully not just because I’m here._

Ivan left Skype and opened Facebook. He had three friend requests now.

The first was Berwald, and Ivan accepted it without hesitation. He had to laugh at the first post that appeared on his homepage then.

It was a photo of a bookshelf posted by Berwald, with no caption. Ivan guess Berwald made it himself; Berwald just seemed to be that type. Matthias had commented and said, “Wow, you should make me one!” to which Berwald responded, “No.”

He went back to the friend requests and found that Sadiq was the second on the list. He accepted.

The third request, however, caused him some pause.

‘Yao Wang,’ it read, beside a little icon that showed Yao holding a big stuffed panda against his chest and a peace sign, a big smile on his face.

What was he supposed to do? If he accepted it right away he may seem desperate. But if he didn’t accept it right away Yao might think he’s ignoring him purposefully.

At that moment, Skype bleeped at him.

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_I think she’d like it there._

_Anyway, we sent you package_

_Happy Birthday, Vanya! (Natalya says so too)_

_It should be arriving any day now_

_Ivan Braginski_

_You shouldn’t have done that…_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Oh be quiet and accept it for once, Vanya!_

_Ivan Braginski_

_No… you should’ve just kept the money.._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_No, this is Natalya and you need to shut up, Ivan_

_Ivan Braginski_

_Alright. I still don’t think you should have though._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_This is Katerina again_

_And Ivan we both know what you would do tomorrow if you we didn’t send you package_

_No drinking tomorrow, by the way. Alright?_

  _Ivan Braginski_

_My birthday is tomorrow??_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Ivan! You do not seriously not know when your birthday is?!_

_And technically it’s two days from now for you in your time zone._

_Ivan Braginski_

_Oh._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Well, we have to go. Keep making friends!_

_Yekaterina Braginskya has left the conversation_

With not another thought to Facebook or what was to come the next day, Ivan closed his laptop with a sigh and went to bed.


	7. what the fuck, kiku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiku sat down across from him at the table. Yao looked over at him with toast in his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work by now?”
> 
> Kiku started at him blankly for ten seconds before replying, “What? No, we’re having a family lunch today, remember?”
> 
> Shit. “What.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is dedicated to my dear friend jittery cantaloupes, who always asks the best questions about the plot and progress of Ivan and Yao's relationship.  
> enjoy

Ivan doesn’t know why, but he feels like Alfred really doesn’t like him. Occasionally he’ll catch Alfred glaring at him from across the room.

One time he tried asking Arthur about it, but before he could, Alfred appeared out of nowhere and dragged Arthur to the side, whispering urgently in his ear.

Okay then. Strange.

* * *

Yao slept well that night, after a cup of tea or two.

He woke late, though, and rushed through a shower, dressed quickly, and sat down to eat his breakfast as fast as he could manage. Yao didn’t live too close to the library, and he didn’t like having to speed walk in order to get there by noon. He liked to take his time and watch people.

Kiku sat down across from him at the table. Yao looked over at him with toast in his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work by now?”

Kiku started at him blankly for ten seconds before replying, “What? No, we’re having a family lunch today, remember?”

 _Shit_. “What.”

“Yao, we have been planning this for three weeks,” Kiku sighed, exasperated.

“But I thought it was supposed to be dinner!”

“We changed that plan two weeks ago to lunch.” Kiku was not impressed.

“No, but…”

“We are meeting Mei in twenty minutes down along the piers. I assumed you were getting ready to go. That is, until you started eating. Come on, go brush your hair, we have to go soon. If you insist on keeping your hair long, you must also keep it presentable.”

Yao scowled as his little brother sat back, crossing his legs and opening the Japanese newspaper that was on the table.

_But, Ivan…_

“Well? Hurry up, we’re leaving soon.”

Yao grumbled as he made his way to the bathroom to comb his hair and tie it back. Like Kiku’s mop looks any better.

Damn, but what was he going to do? It was a half hour to noon now, whch was when Ivan would likely be expecting him to arrive.

_Shit, shit, shit._

* * *

Ivan arrived fifteen minutes after twelve. He had expected Yao to be there before him, but when he wasn’t Ivan wasn’t too concerned. He sat down and started reading a Russian translation of the Iliad.

He was three chapters in the next time he checked the time. It was on ‘o’ clock. Where was Yao?

* * *

There was a waiting list at the restaurant.

“Well, that is annoying,” Kiku said, taking a seat in the waiting area.

“Yeah.” Yao sat beside his brother and checked his clock. It was twelve twenty now. How long would Ivan wait for him at the library?

“Oh, Mei’s here.”

“Huh, sorry I’m late you two. You would not believe the crowds in West Lake this morning!” Kiku and Yao stood to give her a hug.

* * *

Maybe something had come up that morning and Yao was running late? It’s not like this was a date anyway, with such loose parameters. Really, why did Ivan even feel the need to assure himself of that? Of course it wasn’t a date. What did it matter?

* * *

Yao decided quickly on his order. Mei, as always, ordered the house salad, whatever it may be.

And Kiku, as per usual, took ten minutes to peruse the entire menu, the little shit.

“Uh… maybe, hmm, no. Perhaps, umm…”

Yao was ready to rip his hair out.

* * *

Ivan was on chapter five now. He checked his watch. ‘1:45.’ This was very unusual, for Yao to arrive so late.

* * *

Yao ate his food uncharacteristically fast today, to the incredulous stares of his younger sibilngs. His younger siblings who, of course, were taking all the time in the world to eat their dishes.

He just wanted to tell to cut the chit chat and _hurry up_ for god’s sake, but he knew that it would do no good. Not with these two.

“So how have you been lately, Kiku?”

“Oh, well enough I guess. We just got this new project at work…”

 _Oh my gooood_.

* * *

Maybe Yao just forgot?

* * *

The waiter came to collect the plates and asked if they were interested in dessert.

“No thank-“ Yao started to say.

“Actually, could I see the menu?”

Oh my god. This is it. Yao was going to die here. He was never going to be able to leave. He was forever trapped in this restaurant.

* * *

Or… maybe he changed his mind?

* * *

Kiku ordered a fucking cake. A _whole_ cake. For three people.

What the fuck, Kiku.

* * *

Well, it wouldn’t matter too much to Ivan if he _had_ changed his mind, right? Whatever.

He went back to his book, stubbornly ignoring the pain in his chest.

* * *

“How would you like the check split?”

“Two ways, please,” Mei said, pulling her purse onto her lap.

“Oh, no, let me. I’ll have the check,” Kiku offered, putting up a hand to Mei.

“Oh, thank you Kiku. That’s very kind of you.” Mei beamed. “And it would be oh so nice if you could give Yao and I a ride to the library, also, seeing as we have cut so inconsiderately into Yao’s ‘library time’.” At this, Mei winked at Yao, and Yao knew he was blushing.

“What?” Kiku asked as he handed his card to the waiter, looking between Mei and Yao. “What does that mean?”

“Aiyah! Nothing!” Yao cried, glaring at Mei. Mei, the jerk, just giggled.

Just then, an obnoxious ringing emanated from Kiku’s pocket. He sighed and excused himself to answer the call.

“That’s why you’ve been so fidgety today, huh? You got a hot date to get to?” Mei asked quietly, leaning over the table and wiggling her eyebrows.

“What-no! What do you mean by that?” Yao sputtered indignantly.

“You liiike him don’t you?” Mei asked in a mocking, sing song voice, smirking mischieviously.

“I do not!”

“You doo not what?” Kiku asked as he returned.

“What was tat call about?” Mei asked, diverting the subject of conversation.

“It was Herakles so, you know, the usual.”

“Is he staying on the couch again tonight, then?”

“Yeah?”

Yao sighed. Herakles was a fine guy, but when he got into philosophy (which was nearly every time he came to their place), Yao found himself at odds with him over everything. And that’s not to mention religion and politics…

But he could worry about that later. Right now he had to get to the library!

* * *

Ivan had just picked up his books and was heading downstairs when Yao appeared, running up the stair case. He was so focused on quickly ascending the stairs that he nearly ran right past Ivan.

“Yao?” Ivan asked, surprised to see him, since he had convinced himself that Yao wasn’t going to show up.

“Ai! Ivan! Oh, thank goodness, I thought you would’ve left by now!” Yao was panting. He had only run up one flight of stairs: he must not be in very good shape.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Ivan asked the double-bent Yao.

“Yeah… I’m fine… Just give me a second. You still up for coffee then?” he asked as soon as he caught his breath.

Ivan smiled (totally not relieved. Completely nonchalant about everything), and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha  
> sorry i'll have the next chapter over the weekend or on friday or something


	8. Shoveling Gravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll pay, alright?” Yao said, looking back at Ivan.
> 
> “Ah, no, I’ll pay for myself, I insist.”
> 
> “No, no, no, none of that. I got it.”
> 
> “Wait no—“
> 
> “How about I give these to you on the house? You’re one of my best customers anyway, Yao.” Elizaveta just wanted them to stop arguing (like a married couple).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter took a very long time to put up im so sorry bye

They walked in silence for a block before Yao turned to Ivan and said, “I’m so, so sorry I was late. My brother and sister dragged me out for lunch.”

“Oh, you have siblings?”

“Yeah, a little brother and sister. They’re total pains, I’ll tell ya.”

“Ah, I have a little sister too.”

“Oh yeah? You’re the oldest?”

“No, no I have an older sister, too. Natalya and Yekaterina. The most stereotypical Russian names, yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, mine are named Kiku and Mei, right? That’s pretty normal.”

“Kiku? That does not sound Chinese…? Or does it? I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, that’s complicated, I guess.”

Yao didn’t say anything more about this ‘complex’ situation, so Ivan didn’t say anything either.

The silence they fell into today was unlike that before. Somehow it seemed to be more amiable than the other day.

“So, are you going to have another pumpkin spice latte today?” Yao asked, realizing that he had caused the current silence.

“Uh…” Ivan really didn’t want another one of those sugar coffees of death, “Maybe I’ll try another drink today?”

“Ah, yes. That is a good idea. They have many good drinks. Maybe you could have an almond joy mocha.”

 _Oh god that sounded like diabetes in a cup._ “Maybe.”

This time, the walk to the coffee shop seemed much shorter, and they were there before no time. “Hello, Yao!” called Elizaveta from behind the counter. Today, Roderich was playing Chopin.

“Hey Liz! How’s it going?” Yao called back.

“Ah, good. Business as usual, you know. What’ll you have?”

“Two almond joy mochas.”

_Oh god you should’ve spoken up, Braginski._

“I’ll pay, alright?” Yao said, looking back at Ivan.

“Ah, no, I’ll pay for myself, I insist.”

“No, no, no, none of that. I got it.”

“Wait no—“

“How about I give these to you on the house? You’re one of my best customers anyway, Yao.” Elizaveta just wanted them to stop arguing (like a married couple). 

“Really? Wow, thank you Liz. That’s very kind of you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Elizaveta rolled her eyes as she went about making the coffees. She also smiled to herself as she saw the pain in Yao’s friend’s eyes as he watched all the syrups being poured into his cup.

“Do you want to sit here today, then? It looks like it might start raining soon,” Yao asked Ivan, motioning to one of the booths in the corner.

“Sure, I guess.”

“You say that a lot, don’t you?” Yao asked as he sat down on at the booth he picked.

“What?”

“’I guess’. Are you not sure? Are you confused? What does ‘I guess’ even mean? Is this an educated guess?”

Ivan stared at him for a second. “What?”

“Never mind. So are your sisters back in Russia? Have you told me this before?”

“No, I don’t think I have told you. They live in Russia, yes. In St. Petersburg. I came here so that I could hopefully be able to bring them over as well.” Ivan fiddled with his hands as he said this. It was an old habit of his.

“I hear that story a lot. In China Town there are a lot of single mothers trying to bring their children over, or a student looking to hook up with an American citizen so they can stay in the states after their education is finished. It’s kinda sad how few of them work out. But you seem to be the type to put their mind to it and actually make it happen.”

“Ah… thank you?”

“Are you guessing at that too?” Yao asked, a teasing smile on his face.

Just then Elizaveta came around to the table, setting down their coffees. “Two almond joy mochas. Enjoy.”

“Thanks again, Eliza,” Yao said, taking his cup.

“Yeah, of course.”

Ivan and Yao’s chat continued, to subjects that Ivan can’t even remember how they got to.  He did remember, however, when the music stopped and Roderich got up and moved toward the door.

“Yeah, Elizaveta? I need to go buy groceries. I might see you later.”

“Yeah, bye, whatever,” Elizaveta called as she waited on a customer.

Yao watched this with an interested smile on his face. “Wait, let me tell you how I met these two.”

“Alright.”

“I went to high school with Roderich. We were in the same year, and would talk enough. I guess we could be considered friends, though it’s strange to think of it like that in retrospect. He was best friends with a boy whose parents had been bankers in Switzerland. I can’t remember if he was actually Swiss or not, but that’s beside the point because he was still raised in Switzerland and had a really awesome accent.

“Anyway, they were absolute best friends all the way through school, until their senior year. Then, they both ran for president of the student body. It was an absolute bloodbath between the two. Everyone was so scared to vote for one over the other that the one neutral party, some other girl whose name I can’t remember won. They tied for second.

“Ever since then it’s been a rivalry between them, even into adulthood, which I think is extremely immature. They went to the same college though—Yale or Princeton or some uppity school like that—and competed privately in everything they did. Then Vosh—that’s the other boy’s name—went to business school. Roderich, though, met Elizaveta and married her and started this business.

“I met Elizaveta when Roderich invited me to their wedding. It was friendship-love at first sight. Roderich, well, I don’t like him nearly as much as I liked high school-Roderich.” Yao sighed.

“But _now_ , Vosh is trying to train his little sister to be a businesswoman, but she hates it. She came here, not knowing about Vosh and Roderich and everything, and applied for a job. She only works when Roderich is out, though, because Roderich doesn’t know Elizaveta accepted her application. He told her to deny it. And, here she is.”

A young girl with a sweet face and choppy blond hair entered then. She waved and smiled sweetly at Yao, before going behind the counter and greeting Elizaveta.

“Wow,” Ivan said. “That story was much more involved than I was expecting.”

Yao laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty hard to concisely explain one’s life story, huh?” Yao  said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’d say so, da.”

“Then this guy,” Yao continued as the door was flung open again, “is another secret employee Elizaveta maintains.”

Ivan looked over at the newcomer half-interestedly. Half-interestedly, that is, until he recognized him.

“Is- is that Gilbert Beilschmidt?”

“Why yes, do you know him?”

“Well, not exactly, but…”

Ivan watched as Gilbert approached the counter, leaned over and kissed Elizaveta on the cheek. Elizaveta rolled her eyes and pushed playfully against the German’s thin shoulder.

“Are those two a… a couple?” Ivan asked. (He had thought Gilbert was gay?)

“I think so. Liz denies it though.”

“And Roderich doesn’t like him?”

“Yeah, not really. I don’t know that story, though.”

Elizaveta and Gilbert were still talking, the former giggling slightly, before Gilbert looked over the inhabitants of the coffee shop, red eyes landing on Yao and Ivan. He looked slightly shocked on seeing Ivan, but recovered smoothly, nodding and saying something to Elizaveta. She seemed to have something to show him behind the counter, turning and leading him behind. Before he went out of sight though, Gilbert flashed one last look back at Ivan. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something to him, but Ivan had no idea what that would be; what would the guy who openly seemed to hate Ivan have to communicate to him?

“Elizaveta has him fix up whatever’s broken around the café, seeing as Roderich’s not the type to be up on that kind of thing.”

Ivan laughed. Roderich looked much too fashionable to be fixing up sinks or whatnot.

“So, anyway. Tell me more about yourself. Aside from the whole library thing,” Yao said, looking up at Ivan expectantly.

“Uh… I don’t really know what there is to say, I guess.”

“You guess,” Yao interjected quietly. Ivan mock scowled for a moment before continuing.

“Yes, I just moved here. I don’t know what to say.”

“What did you do back home?”

“I worked odd jobs. One day I’d be shoveling gravel and the next it would be fixing fences on someone’s farm. One time we had a very bad winter and a lot of cattle froze to death, and my job was to remove the dead ones.”

“That’s so sad, though! Poor cows!” Yao looked legitimately stricken at this, and Ivan didn’t understand why. I mean, the cows were in line for the slaughterhouse anyway… The other got over the cows quickly though, a better thought coming to mind. “You’re probably really strong from all that, huh?” Ivan could see Yao trying to figure the size of his upper arms through the coat he was wearing.

“I guess? I don’t really know.”

“There you go guessing again.”

Ivan sighed.

Yao tipped his coffee back and took the last drink. Ivan’s was still full. He fiddled with it idly, not watching Yao as he swallowed.

“Did you even drink any of yours?” Yao asked when he was done.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you not like it?”

Ivan paused. Would it be rude to say that he didn’t? Or was it worse to lie?

“Um, not really. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I didn’t pay for it. Would it be alright if I take it though? I’ve got a double shift tonight.”

“That’s fine, go ahead.” Yao took it sheepishly, smiling sweetly.

“Im sorry, but my shift starts very soon. Would you like to go?”

“Yes, that is fine.”

They stood, and Yao called a farewell to Liz as they left.

“Yeah, bye!” came Elizaveta’s voice as the door closed behind them. It was raining outside.

“So, uh, I’m going this way. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” Yao asked, almost shyly.

“Maybe, yeah.”

Yao smiled and turned away, walking quickly in the opposite direction than the library. Ivan smiled to himself as he pulled his hood up, stepping out from the shelter of the café’s overhand.

\--

Yao sipped from the coffee daintily. He had not thought it was going to rain today, so he had not dressed appropriately, and the warm coffee was much appreciated. _Ivan’s_ coffee, he reminded himself, and there was a weird feeling in his chest.


	9. Or Is It A Boyfriend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You look cheery today, what’s up?” Tino asked Ivan as he sat down near the others.
> 
> “Ah… what? Nothing…” Was he that obvious?
> 
> “At least someone’s happy,” Sadiq mumbled.

Ivan walked to work that night in the pouring rain. Even his scarf was soaked by the time the backdoor shut behind him.

Tino greeted him cheerily, and Berwald gave him his customary grunt. Matthias was patting a melancholy Sadiq on the back.

“You look cheery today, what’s up?” Tino asked Ivan as he sat down near the others.

“Ah… what? Nothing…” Was he that obvious?

“At least someone’s happy,” Sadiq mumbled.

At this comment, Berwald pointedly made eye contact with Tino and rolled his eyes; Tino shook his head. Ivan smiled, because those two were such a perfect match and he found their silent conversations to be funny.

“Jerks, get ready to work,” called Lovino. “What are you all standing around for?”

\--

It was a very busy Saturday night, and of course, in came Bonnefoy and Beilschmidt at the usual time. Antonio was with them tonight. Ivan didn’t pay them much attention. They were unusually quiet, with Beilschmidt shooting glances over at Ivan every so often.

Two hours into his shift, another big group came in through the door. A brunet with a tight V-neck and his shy Asian friend was among them.

“Keep an eye on that one,” Sadiq had told Ivan, pointing at the brunet. Ivan didn’t know why Sadiq wanted him to watch him, but he figured Sadiq knew this crowd better than Ivan, so he trusted his advice.

The Asian friend went to the bar after the brunet left him for the dance floor.

The brunet, when Ivan spotted him ten minutes later, was dancing provocatively between two other men, staring insistently at one point across the floor from him.

He looked very cool about the whole situation; or perhaps he was disinterested or sleepy.

“Yo, Ivan, can I talk to you?” someone asked from behind the Russian. Ivan turned to find Beilschmidt standing behind him.

“What?”

“I see that you’ve gone to the Symposium a few times before, yeah?” the smaller man started.

“Yeah? And? I’m working right now.”

Gilbert’s shoulders slumped before he continued,” Yeah, but… I need you to not tell Elizaveta that I come here, okay?”

What? Why would Ivan ever bring that up? “Yeah, sure I won’t.”

Gilbert huffed a breath before nodding and rejoining his friends.

That was weird.

Ivan looked back toward the dance floor to keep an eye on that brunet like Sadiq had said to, to find that he was gone. Where did he go?

Ivan scanned the club quickly with his eyes. Eventually, he found the man on a couch in a corner, sleeping, with a cat on his head.  How did that cat even get in here?

Just then, a shouting came from the dance floor. Punches were being thrown by the time Sadiq and Ivan got between the two men.

Later, as Ivan was nursing his black eye, after the club was closed, Ivan overheard a conversation between Arthur and Sadiq.

“Dammit, why does Herakles always have to fuck around like that? You know, he packed a bag and went to a friend’s house while I was gone today. He locked me out of the bedroom the last two nights and he let his stupid fucking _cats_ sleep on all my clothes and now there’s cat hair everywhere. And then he pulls this shit. Man,” Sadiq paused to take a pull from his glass. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s coming back this time.”

 “Oh, cheer up ol’ chap. If he does come back, that’s great. If he doesn’t, it’s his loss, yeah? Maybe you’re better off, yeah?”

Sadiq huffed visibly. “I don’t know.”

Alfred came over then, jumping easily over the counter top and wrapping his arms around Arthur from behind, saying, “Sup, ‘Diq?”

“Honestly, Alfred, I’m trying to talk to Sadiq. Get off me,” Arthur said sharply, trying to wrestle his way out of Alfred’s grip.

“Fine, cranky-pants,” Alfred pouted as he let go.

Ivan noticed Sadiq’s jealous glances at the couple. He felt sorry for him, fighting with his boyfriend. The man Sadiq had pointed out to Ivan must have been Herakles.

“What about you, then, Ivan? Do you have someone?” Sadiq asked, turning away from the other two as Alfred kissed Arthur on the nose petulantly.

“Ah…” Ivan thought for a moment. He _wanted_ to be able to say yes, thinking of Yao, but he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. “No.”

“What was with the pause, eh?” Matthias asked, appearing behind Ivan as if from nowhere. “Something you wanna share?”

“What? No, I—“

“Yeah Ivan, go on, share,” Alfred piped in.

“No, I—“

“Do you have a girlfriend, or a friend-girl-almost-girlfriend?” Tino asked, joining in excitedly.

“Well…” Ivan looked away.

“Or is it a boyfriend?” Tino pressed, smirking.

Ivan didn’t even try to say no; the others would just interrupt him again anyway.

Tino gasped at Ivan’s silence. “Really? I always thought you were straight!”

Ivan raised his eyebrows at that—the others shot Tino looks as well.

“What?” he asked of these glances. “What?” he repeated when they collectively rolled their eyes, turning back to Ivan. “Okay, well. You still have to tell us everything.”

“Yeah, what’s his name?” Matthias said, nudging Ivan with his shoulder.

“That’s why you looked so happy earlier, huh?”

“No, no, stop you guys. Go on Ivan, tell us.”

Ivan mock-glared at the five of them before relenting, “Well, first of all, we are not dating.”

“So there is someone! What’s their name?”

“How’d you meet?”

“How long ago did you meet?”

Ivan waited for them to stop talking before saying, “Well… his name is Yao and—“

“Yao Wang? That wanker, he didn’t tell me he was dating someone!” Arthur exclaimed, almost causing Tino to drop the glass he was wiping.

“You know Yao?” Ivan asked, incredulous. Maybe Arthur _was_ that English bartender friend Yao had told him about.

Ivan didn’t get to hear Arthur’s response, because Lovino came by just then, shooing them out, saying, “You bastards are still here?” What, do you not have anywhere better to be? Come on, get out, go home.”

As they all went out the back door together, Tino announced, “You have to come to the gym tomorrow and tell us all about this thing you got going on, okay Ivan? You have to.” The others nodded in agreement.

\--

There was a package on his doorstep when Ivan got there. Half of the writing was in Russian; a new sticker was translated and stuck over the St. Petersburg stamp.

Ivan smiled grudgingly as he brought the box inside. He cut it open hastily and pulled the items out of the packing peanuts.

There was some expensive Russian chocolate, a pair of knit gloves, a cap, and knitting needles. They were, upon further inspection, Ivan’s pair he had left at home. At the very bottom, there was a spool of blue yarn and a card. Obviously, Natalya had drawn the cover: a birthday cake with elaborate frosting drawn on, and a group of nesting dolls around the bottom.

He opened it, and found Yekaterina’s scratchy handwriting on one side, with Natalya’s neat, looping handwriting on the other.

Yekaterina’s side read:

“Happy Birthday, Vanya! I hope you are doing well. I figured you might want your needles this time of year, even though Seattle doesn’t get very cold. You had that yarn in your room, so I figured I’d send that, too. I hope the gloves fit. Also, the chocolate is caramel, your favorite. I hope it survived the trip. It’s getting cold here; the farmers are still trying to recover from the fires this summer, though. It doesn’t look too good for the cattle men… “

She continued on about current affairs back home for about a paragraph before,

“You remember old Mr. Winter from down the street? Apparently, he fell and broke his hip a few days ago. Natalya has been helping him around after her studies. Just thought you should know.

“Anyway, I hope you have a good day!  
-Yekaterina”

Natalya’s was shorter, talking about how well school is going and how much she liked her study group. It was mostly small talk up until about the third paragraph.

“I miss you big brother. I hope you like America and can do well for yourself there.”

Ivan paused there. He felt his throat constricting slightly and he blinked rapidly, putting the letter down for a moment. He missed home.

Once he recollected himself, he continued to read the letter.

“I hope you can make yourself a new home there. I want you to be happy and make friends.   
Love, Natalya.”

Ivan smiled, even as he forced himself not to cry.


	10. Small World, Huh? :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, it appears that someone didn’t tell us about their birthday,” Tino said, looking pointedly at Ivan.
> 
> “Tut, tut,” Matthias said, shaking his head.
> 
> “What did you do?” Ivan asked, seeing through their ‘disappointment’. They were up to something, it seemed.

Ivan was awoken by a text from Tino the next morning. _You’re still coming, right? You have to!_

Ivan sighed as he rolled out of bed. Tino was strange to Ivan; he was insistent and always expected people to comply with him. Ivan wondered how Berwald dealt with that.

_Yeah, sure. When are you getting there? Ivan shot back his reply ._

As usual, Tino texted back immediately.  _About an hour from now. Matthias and Lukas are joining us at one._

_You should come at one, too. Alfred and Arthur are coming around then, and I know Arthur wants to hear about how you and Yao met._

Ivan didn’t respond again. He looked at the time: about eleven ‘o’ clock.

Could he walk to the library and still make it to the gym on time?

Yeah, probably. He dressed quickly, and pulled his coat and scarf on, going out the door. It was windy and rainy and Ivan was near soaked by the time he made it to the corner.

Today, he honestly wasn’t going just to see Yao. He wanted to pikc up a Russian-English dictionary and work on his specific vocabulary.

When he arrived at the library, soaking wet, he made his way to the foreign languages, shivering as he went.

As soon as he got the Russian/Ukrainian section, of course, Yao came around the corner, scanning the shelves with his eyes dutifully. He didn’t even see Ivan until they were seven feet away from each other and Ivan was just starting at him blankly.

“Hello Ivan! I did not see you there! Wow, you’re soaked,” Yao exclaimed, frowning at Ivan’s dripping coat. “You should take that coat off before you catch a cold/”

Yao helped him take the coat off, seeing as the soaked sleeves were clinging insistently to his damp skin.

“You’re gonna need something hot to drink, yes? Are you staying very long? I’ll got get you a cocoa from the Starbucks across the street.”

“No, that’s okay, I’m Russian, I—“

“No, nope, none of that. I’m going. Go up to the table and I’ll be right back. Cocoa or cider?”

Ivan stayed stubbornly silent—he did not want Yao to get him a ‘cocoa’ as if he were a child! How embarrassing!

That is, until, Yao glared at him, and repeated slowly,“Cocoa, or cider, Ivan. Well?” His voice was dangerous and Ivan suddenly didn't feel like being stubborn any more.

“… Cocoa.”

Yao’s stern face broke into a smile. “Great. I’ll be right back.”

He went off through the aisles toward the street.

Ivan begrudgingly grabbed a book and went upstairs.

\--

Ivan was late to the gym.

When he got there, Arthur, Alfred, Sadiq, and the five Nordics were waiting near the full-body machines and the benches around them.

“So, it appears that someone didn’t tell us about their birthday,” Tino said, looking pointedly at Ivan.

“Tut, tut,” Matthias said, shaking his head.

“What did you do?” Ivan asked, seeing through their ‘disappointment’. They were up to something, it seemed.

“We got you a present! We all chipped in and got you a gym bag with some stuff.”

 _Stuff_? Ivan wondered.

Tino held the bag out in front of him. It was a nice Nike one, and Ivan could feel that there was a water bottle, some gym clothes, and maybe some shoes in it.

“Really? You didn’t need to do that. How did you even find out it was my birthday?”

“Whoa, slow down there friend. You don’t have to act so excited about it,” Lukas said dryly.

“Romano told us,” Arthur explained over the Norwegian’s snide comment.

“All the clothes are Berwald’s size; I assumed they’d fit you too, but they all have gift receipts in case they don’t. Anyway…”

“Tell us more about Yao!”

“How did you two even meet? He doesn’t ever go anywhere social, except the damn library or bookstore or whatnot. Unless you met him at the library,” Arthur said, sitting on a bench.

One look at Ivan and Arthur knew the answer to his question.

“You seriously met at the fucking library? Really?”

“That’s so romantic!” Tino chimed in excitedly.

“But—I already said—we’re not dating!” Ivan reiterated exasperatedly.

“You should be, though!”

“When are you gonna ask him out?” Matthias asked.

“Ask… him out?”

“Yeah, like on a date.”

“Oh. Well, I…”

“You were planning to ask him, right?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, when you do,” Arthur started, “beware of his little brother. They live together and he is super protective of Yao. Even if you aren’t dating, if he notices you spending  lot of time with Yao he’ll demand to meet you. And he’ll probably tear you apart verbally.”

“His little brother? Kiku?”

“Wait, you’ve met him?”

“No, not yet. Yao’s just talked about him before?”

“Man, I’ll tell you,” Alfred said, taking a bite of a hamburger (where did he get that from?), “Kiku and I were best friends freshmen year in high school.” Alfred nodded nostalgically. “Then came sophomore year. And he became ‘best friends’ with Ludwig the Nazi over there,” Alfred pointed over at the blond man, lifting weights in the corner as he had been last time Ivan was here.

“Alfred! Just because he’s German does not mean he’s a Nazi! Stop being racist!” Arthur smacked him over the head.

“Hey! I’m not being racist, I’m just pointing out that he probably hates Jews!”

“I can hear you, jackass,” Ludwig called from across the mostly-empty gym.

Arthur just glared at Alfred, shaking his head.

“I cannot believe you right now.” Arthur turned back to Ivan. “Well, I am still upset that Yao hasn’t told me anything about you. I saw him just last Sunday and he didn’t say a word! Speaking of which,” he looked at his watch, “I have to run. I’ve got a late lunch with him in a half hour. Are you ready to go Alfred? Nice chatting with you fellows.”

\--

That night, Ivan unzipped the gym bag the guys had bought him to find exactly what he had expected.

He pulled the items out and laid them out on the couch beside him. There was a pair of tennis shoes (which were miraculously his size), a light blue tank top, some gym shorts, sweat pants, a red short sleeved shirt, a water bottle, and a towel. He checked the sizes and eyed the clothes carefully, before deciding all of it would fit. Tino is very good at picking out gifts.

He unzipped the side pockets, also. They were mostly all empty: some had tags or other small items.

When he got to the very last one, however, he was surprised to find one final gift.

It was a DVD with a sticky note stuck on its’ cover. “From Matthias, with love <3”.

He pulled the sticky note off and nearly dropped the case. Pocahontass was the title, and on the cover there was an almost-nude woman with what appeared to be a stereotypical Native American deerskin dress. Ivan didn’t know what to do with this. He’d heard of porn before but he’d never before been confronted with it face to face.

Ivan was still gawking at this gift when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Arthur. _I take back what I said about Yao never talking about you. He wouldn’t stop talking about you once he found out we knew each other. He forced me to give him your phone number. I hope that’s alright._

What.

What. Shit.

Ivan stared at the little screen, frozen once again, until another message popped up on screen.

It was from an unknown number.

_Hi Ivan! This is Yao! I didn’t know you knew Arthur! Small world, huh? :)_

Oh shit.


	11. Magic Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wow, Ivan, look at the time! Ya know, I actually have somewhere I gotta be. See you around, yeah?” Tino said, pretending to look at his watch as he walked by the two, toward the exit.
> 
> “What?” Ivan asked. Did he just get set up?
> 
> Tino didn’t answer, the shop door swinging shut behind him.
> 
> Ivan watched him go, shock and alarmed and mildly betrayed.

_‘Uh, hi!’_ Ivan started to type. No, no, that didn’t sound right. He deleted it; he sounded awkward and overeager.

Maybe, _‘Oh, hello.’_ No, too formal.

How was he supposed to respond? Dammit.

He composed a message to Arthur: _I don’t know what to say to him._

_Well don’t ask me. Just say hi, yeah?_

Ivan guessed he was just being ridiculous. Why was texting Yao any different than talking to him? Why was he being so awkward?

That was probably the wrong question to ask. He was awkward whether he was in person or on the phone. He was just awkward, and it was awful. God, he just wanted to be able to talk to Yao!

His phone buzzed with another text from Arthur.

_He saw that you texted me first after he text you. He took my phone and saw your message. Just. Say. Hi._

\--

“Who’re you texting now?” Yao asked. He was still waiting for a reply from Ivan.

“Ivan,” Arthur said simply, clicking the buttons and sending the text.

“What? Why’d he text you instead of me? Why hasn’t he texted me back?”

“I don’t know, maybe your text hasn’t gone through yet,” Arthur lied, not looking up from his phone. He knew perfectly well why Ivan hasn’t responded.

“Let me see that,” Yao demanded. Maybe Arthur had given him the wrong number.

“No!”

“Give it to me,” Yao insisted, grabbing at Arthur’s phone. Yao had faster reflexes, so he easily took it from the Englishmen.

He clicked through his recent messages, meaning just to find Ivan’s number. What he saw instead was Ivan’s most recent message.

 _I don’t know what to say to him_. Aw…

“Give that back, you bloody wanker! Don’t be so uncivilized Yao, snatching people’s phones! Like a bloody thief! Wow,” Arthur huffed, taking his phone back.

“Ivan is terribly awkward, isn’t he?” Yao asked.

Arthur paused a moment. “You saw that, huh? Yeah, he really is. Would almost be endearing if he weren’t so intimidating. Like a bloody seven foot Russian Mafia gangster…”

“Intimidating? Ivan? No,” Yao said, waving him off.

They were walking along the piers in downtown Seattle. Yao liked to watch the water and the people passing by.

Arthur looked at him and shrugged. “I guess you’ve never seen him in a fight. He can really throw a punch, sometimes.”

“So you said he was a bouncer at the club you work at?” Yao asked. He thought for a moment before saying, “I guess that sounds right. It fits.”

Arthur had just typed out another text, probably to Ivan. Yao was curious as he to what Arthur said, but he wasn’t going to pry into that again so soon.

His pocket buzzed then, and he pulled out his phone. _Hi_. It was from Ivan.

Yao smiled to himself. He didn’t see Arthur watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye.

\--

That night at work, Berwald approached Ivan before the doors were opened.

“Ivan, could you cover some of my night these next few weeks, do you think?”

“Uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Ivan nodded. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to Minneapolis for a week or two. My mother’s sick.”

“Oh.” Ivan felt awkward for asking, all of a sudden. That was really personal.

Berwald just nodded and walked back over to the bar. Ivan saw Tino lean over the bar to whisper something in Berwald’s ear. Berwald smiled softly (Ivan thinks that’s a smile??).

Ivan wondered what Tino had said.

\--

Ivan didn’t know this, but ever since he had left the gym the day before, Tino has been scheming. He had texted Matthias and Arthur, and interviewed Arthur and Alfred over Skype for information on ‘Yao.’ He was a forming a ‘hook-Ivan-up-with-Yao’ coalition. He _had_ been planning to have Berwald help him, but maybe Berwald having to leave was fortunate as well. Not saying that his mother getting sick was fortunate—Agnes was a lovely woman and Tino hoped she got well soon—but he may be able to factor Berwald’s absence into one of his plans.

He was pleased with how Arthur had ‘accidentally’ given Yao Ivan’s number. Hopefully that would also help the two along.

His thoughts were interrupted when Berwald came over to the bar. Tino leaned over, encouraging Berwald to come close as well.

“I’ll miss you, hon” he whispered and kissed Berwald on the cheek.

Berwald was leaving the next day. It had all come up very suddenly, and Berwald had booked the first flight to Minneapolis he could. Tino hadn’t even known anything was going on until Berwald called him at nearly midnight the night before.

Tino was worried, to say the least. The others may not be able to tell, but Tino saw Berwald was scared for his mother. But Tino didn’t bring it up. Tino worrying over Berwald’s mother wouldn’t comfort Berwald much, so he continued on like everything was normal.

“Yeah,” was all Berwald said.

\--

Berwald left work early tonight: he didn’t stay while Tino chatted everyone up like he usually did. Ivan guessed he had to pack for his trip.

“Hey, so Ivan. I’m dropping Berwald off at the airport tomorrow morning, and then I’m free for the whole day. Do you think you might want to hang out after that? We could have a late breakfast somewhere or something?”

Ivan felt like he should suspect something fishy here, but Tino had such a friendly, expectant expression that he really couldn’t say no.

“Okay, I guess.”

\--

Tino texted Ivan at nine-thirty the next morning.

_What’s your address again?_

Ivan gave him his address without thinking. He was still in bed, and it didn’t quite click why Tino was asking for such a thing.

_Okay, great. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?_

_Where do you want to have breakfast?_

_I know a great place near Pike Street._

Ivan received these texts, among others from the Finn, within a minute. Wasn’t he supposed to be driving right now? Driving to Ivan’s place to pick him up and bring him to breakfast with him. Oh yeah.

Ivan got dressed and went out of his apartment, grabbing his coat and scarf. It looked to be a very cold day.

Tino pulled up within a minute in a small grey Volkswagen. A little white dog was bouncing around in the backseat, yipping playfully at Ivan through the window. Ivan was weary of this because dogs usually hated him. He remembered being attacked by a farmer’s dog one summer. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his knee.

He opened the passenger-side door and sat down quickly, not wanting to let the dog out.

“Hi Ivan!” Tino greeted him cheerfully. The little dog yipped at Ivan’s ear. “No, Hana! Bad! Back up! I’m sorry, I’m watching Berwald’s dog while he’s away. I mean, it’s technically our dog but Ber usually takes care of it, and so it’s kinda more his dog than mine but, ya know,” Tino explained, pushing the dog back into the backseat and putting the car back into drive.

Breakfast was at a pancake house in the middle of downtown. It seemed to be a very liberal establishment, with some psychedelic drums beating on a record player in the corner. Half of the waiters had dreads. The other half had exotically shaved heads, halfway or with patterns.

Tino looked perfectly at home here. Ivan imagined Tino and Berwald coming here, and had to smile at the image of Berwald’s seriousness in a place like this.

They sat, and Tino made small talk. Ivan just nodded or shook his head occasionally. It was like Tino was used to carrying the conversation.

After they finished their breakfast, Tino asked for the split check and they paid.

“Hey, I know a really cool book store near here. Do you want to go?” Tino asked, drinking the last of his glass of water.

“That sounds fine.”

They walked there in near silence. Tino was bundled up, with gloves and a scarf and a hat a big puffy jacket.

“Here we’re!” Tino said. He was very muffled behind the scarf pulled over his face.

The book shop was called ‘Magic Dragon’, and was comprised of cramped halls crammed full of books. It had a theme of dragons, matching its name, with stuffed dragons sitting atop bookshelves and dragon models hanging from the ceiling.

Tino chatted animatedly about this or that, and Ivan smiled indulgently. Even if he wasn’t paying attention to the words the Finn was saying, the smaller man practically demanded Ivan to look at him.

Which is why he didn’t see the worker bending down and shelving some new books until he ran into him.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Ivan said, grabbing the man’s arm so as to stop him from falling.

“No, it’s fine, sorry,” the man said quickly, flustered.

Wait, was that…

“Ivan? Wow, we really must stop meeting like this, aru!” It was Yao.

“Oh, I. Yeah, that’s…” Ivan sputtered. Neither of the two saw the Finn’s beaming face, looking between the two.

“Wow, Ivan, look at the time! Ya know, I actually have somewhere I gotta be. See you around, yeah?” Tino said, pretending to look at his watch as he walked by the two, toward the exit.

“What?” Ivan asked. Did he just get set up?

Tino didn’t answer, the shop door swinging shut behind him.

Ivan watched him go, shock and alarmed and mildly betrayed.

Yao chuckled softly

“My shift ends in twenty minutes if you wanna hang around and wait for me.”

“Oh. Sure, yeah.” Ivan looked back to Yao, who smiled before returning to shelving books.

Ivan glanced back to the door for a moment, wondering if the devious little Finn had actually left him, and if he’d been planning this all along.

Through the shop’s front window he could see Tino, who grinned and gave him a thumbs-up before disappearing.


	12. With A Panda Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, why were you at the ‘Dragon’ today? I’ve never seen you there before.”
> 
> “Ah, my friend wanted to go. Then he left…”
> 
> “Oh, yeah, I saw him, duh.”
> 
> “Tino. He’s a sly little…” Ivan thought about what he was going to say, and decided it was most appropriate to leave it at, “He’s sly.”

“So where do you want to go?” Yao asked after he had carded out for the day.

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have any opinion?”

“Not really. I don’t walk around here very often.”

“Wait, you’ve never been to Pike Place before? Is that what you just said? Really?”

“Well, no. I never have.”

“Wow, well I know what we’re gonna do today, then.”

A half hour later, they were walking around the damp halls of the Public Market, Yao clutching a paper bag full of miniature donuts. They passed by a bronze pig and the fish market. Yao made them stand and watch some fish-throwing for a minute, and Ivan watched Yao’s smile more so than he was watching the actual fish flying through the air.

They passed by the flower stands, and Ivan couldn’t help but admire the sunflowers.

“So, why were you at the ‘Dragon’ today? I’ve never seen you there before.”

“Ah, my friend wanted to go. Then he left…”

“Oh, yeah, I saw him, duh.”

“Tino. He’s a sly little…” Ivan thought about what he was going to say, and decided it was most appropriate to leave it at, “He’s sly.”

“Tino? Arthur has told me about him. Arthur was the one who showed him the ropes at Circes’.”

“I keep forgetting that you and Arthur know each other. It is strange, to me.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been friends with Arthur since he moved to the states. ‘To the colonies’ is how he had said it. As a joke, of course. We were roommates.” Yao pulled him along to some of the fruit booths. “I owe him a lot, though. He’s the one who got me that job at the Magic Dragon. It’s his brother’s store, you see.”

“Wait, Arthur’s _brother_ owns the store? Whose family _doesn’t_  own a small business around here?”

“Well, actually it’s a long complicated story, and it was left to Arthur’s older brother, Buchanan, in a will. Since then one of their little brothers, Riley, has come to work for him, too.”

“Wait, how many siblings does Arthur have?”

“Five; four brothers and one sister.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, a whole lot of Protestants, you see. Except little Marie; she’s Catholic, and you know how Catholics and Protestants get along over there. The boys and she don’t get along very well because of that, so Arthur tells me.”

Ivan nodded. He knew how religious issues could cause problems in a family. If Yekaterina weren’t so accepting she probably would’ve forced Ivan, the family’s atheist, and Natalya, the pagan, to go to her Orthodox church every Sunday. She had done that when they were young, but once she realized it was having a negative effect on the family’s dynamics, she gave up.

“Yeah, but Arthur’s seriously a good guy. He’s… I don’t know, he’s just really great.” Yao was smiling. Ivan pushed down the feelings of jealousy. That was not a good thing. It’s not like Ivan and Yao were a thing or anything.

He nodded instead, not having anything to say about Arthur, and not quite trusting himself to speak.

“So,” Yao said, changing the subject, “you had been telling me about your sisters. What are they like?”

_I was?_

“Well, Yekaterina is twenty-six, and she’s says the two of us look more like our father. She says we look alike, which I don’t know if that’s a good thing, because she’s not very good looking. My mother must have been very pretty when she was young, because Natalya supposedly looks just like her.”

Yao nodded distractedly. “And what are they _like_?”

“Oh.” Ivan thought for a moment as Yao led him by the arm to a soap stand, “Well I guess they’re both kind of scary. My older sister raised both of us, pretty much, and she never really scolded us directly. She just sort of passively shamed Natalya and I when we did something wrong, and there is nothing more frightening than a disappointed big sister. Little sister however is the scariest when she doesn’t get what she wants. Big sister,” Ivan paused to smell a lotion that Yao held up for him. “Big sister is generally very smiley and nice, but little sister is never really smiley _or_ nice. She is very smart, though. She’s probably going to be the first in our family to graduate college.”

“That is impressive. Where do you think she’ll go to school? In St. Petersburg? I’m sure Moscow would have some goods schools.”

“She wants to apply there and at UW.”

“Oh? What does she want to go into?”

“I do not know. She always liked the stars, and at one time she was saying astrology. Since then she’s said medicine, law, and about everything in between.”

“Yeah. It’s hard to decide.”

“I never even considered college so I don’t know anything about it.”

“Really? Didn’t even think you might?”

“Well, I didn’t finish high school, you see. I dropped out in year nine because I had to go to work. With Yekaterina and me working, we were able to keep Natalya in school. Natalya took her education seriously because she knew how much it meant.”

“Wow. That is very intense. How old is she?”

“About eighteen now. She’s applying very soon.”

Yao nodded. “My sister travelled abroad for several years before deciding. I knew what I wanted to do, though my step-father thought it was stupid. Kiku is probably the most successful of the three of us, and he went to the university when he was fifteen or sixteen. His father was _so_ proud of him.”

Yao sounded bitter about this but quickly recovered, pointing to another stand. “Wow, look at those plates!”

They were handmade imprinted plates, and Yao picked up on with a panda face. “It’s so cute!”

“Fifteen dollar,” said the merchant.

“Oh. I didn’t bring any cash. I guess I’ll be fine without it.” Yao looked so disappointed. Ivan had fifteen dollars… He would just have to not drink quite so much vodka this week…

“I’ll buy it for you,” Ivan said, reaching inside his coat for a wallet.

“Oh, no that is fine. You don’t have to do that!”

“No, I insist.” Ivan counted out a few ones and a ten, and handed it to the merchant. She wrapped up the plate in some paper and stuck it in a bag for Yao.

“Wow, thank you! You really didn’t have to do that.”

Ivan shrugged.

At another stand, Yao found some incense he really liked, and aggressively haggled the price to about half. He pulled out his card and paid.

“Where did you learn to barter like that?” Ivan asked as they walked away.

“My mom. She would’ve been able to get a better price.” Yao looked around the crowded booth area. He had gone to all the booths he’d wanted to.

“Now what do you want to do? We could go to Starbucks. Or there’s a good piroshky place across the street.”

“There’s a piroshky place here? Is it any good?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had it before.”

\--

It was a whole hour before they could get in line, order, and sit down in the park across from the market.

They took out their own food and Yao looked at his suspiciously. Ivan wasn’t even really paying attention to what he was doing until Yao looked up at him. Neither of them had taken a bite yet. “Well, on one?” Yao asked. Ivan nodded. “One, two, three.” They both took a bite.

“Wow! They’re good!” Yao exclaimed after he swallowed.

Ivan nodded. “Yes, but my sister makes them better.”

“Well then,” Yao said between bites. “You’ll have to have her visit and make me some.”

Ivan chuckled.

They ate their meal quickly and silently after that. When they finished, Yao took all the trash to a trashcan nearby.

“So… I suppose you’re working tonight? When do you have to be there?” Yao asked, hands in his pockets. Ivan was so used to his bright red shirts by now that they went without comment. Except right now, when he was standing there just waiting for Ivan’s response.

But right as he was going to responded, Yao’s phone rang.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he pulled out his phone. “It’s my brother, I have to answer.” He clicked a button and answered.

“Hello? I’m at the Market. Can you speak up? Yeah? I’m in the park. Really? I guess, yeah, okay. See you in a bit.”

“What was that?”

“I guess my brother is in the neighborhood and is going to pick me up. Hope that’s okay. This was fun.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you at the library, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

They walked toward the road, where Yao’s brother would be picking him up. They didn’t talk as they waited.

A small Japanese car pulled up next to them presently. “This is him. See you around!”

“Yeah, bye,” Ivan waved as Yao got into the passenger seat.

\--

“So, who was that?” Kiku asked as Yao buckled his seatbelt.

“Oh, no one.”

“’No one’?” Kiku repeated evenly, if not suspiciously. “That’s funny how you were downtown in the park with ‘no one’.” Kiku sent him a calculating side glance, and Yao knew exactly what he was thinking.

“No, not that, Kiku. His name is Ivan, and he’s a friend of mine. I met him at the library.”

They stopped at a light and Kiku looked at him pensively, before sighing. “Well. He’ll have to come over for dinner sometime.” 


	13. Forever and Always?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey guys!” Matthias called, just coming in. “What are you guys talking about? Yao?”
> 
> Tino nodded and Ivan put his head in his hands, elbows on the table.
> 
> “Eyyy! Did you ask him to be yours yet?”
> 
> “Your one and only?”
> 
> “Forever and always?”
> 
> Sadiq came in then, seemingly to Ivan’s rescue from the nosy and obnoxious Nordics. “Can you two can it? You’re gonna make me hurl.”

Ivan got to work twenty minutes early and was surprised to find Tino already waiting there for him.

“Sooo, how’d it go with Yao?” Tino asked, winking.

Ivan sighed as he sat down on a stool. “How did you even know he worked there?”

“Arthur, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Hey guys!” Matthias called, just coming in. “What are you guys talking about? Yao?”

Tino nodded and Ivan put his head in his hands, elbows on the table.

“Eyyy! Did you ask him to be yours yet?”

“Your one and only?”

“Forever and always?”

Sadiq came in then, seemingly to Ivan’s rescue from the nosy and obnoxious Nordics. “Can you two can it? You’re gonna make me hurl.”

“Aw, Sadiq, you ruin all our fun,” Matthias pouted.

“But seriously, Ivan. Make your move.” Tino nodded, meant to be encouraging. “Oh, and Matthias and I were talking about how fun it would be if you came to our Thanksgiving. If you didn’t already have plans, that is.”

“Yeah! Ivan’s first turkey time!” Matthias said, smiling broadly and nudging Ivan with his elbow.

“Thanksgiving? What is that?” Ivan asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Pretty much we eat and get drunk and the next day we trample people to death for a futon sale. It’s great.”

“Oh.” Ivan didn’t understand, but it didn’t look like anyone was going to elaborate. “Sounds like fun?”

“We’re having it and Ber’s and mine this year. I’m just going to have to recruit Lukas to help me cook since Berwald won’t be there.”

“Lukas is going to help? Cook? Aw man, I don’t want not raw fish. _I’ll_ help you, please, just don’t let Lukas make any stinking Lutefisk!” Matthias started, almost begging Tino. “I had some when I met his parents and I got totally sick! I’m pretty sure his mom still hates me because of that!”

“Calm down, Matthias! We’re not having any fish! I was going to have him make biscuits and Jell-O!” Tino assured him, hands up.

“Oh. Okay, good.”

“Shouldn’t you be setting up music, anyway?”

“Yeah.”

Matthias  went to the stage and hit several switches, going about his setup process. Ivan stayed by the ar. It was Monday night, and was not likely to be very busy.

“So, Thanksgiving is this Thursday, and we don’t have any work that night. Lukas and Matthias come at noon, and Emil is bringing a friend. That’s all whose coming for sure, and you hopefully, too.”

“I probably can. But what is Thanksgiving?”

“I’m Finnish, I don’t know. Google it, I guess.”

\--

Ivan did Google it. It didn’t make much sense to him, per se, but he kinda got the gist of it. He logged onto Facebook and Skype.

Oh no.

He had never accepted the friend request from Yao. He quickly pressed ‘accept’, feeling guilty that he hadn’t before.

He noticed that a lot of his American friends were posting Thanksgiving statuses and photos. A friend of Berwald, some ‘Alma Oxenstierna’, had posted a photo of herself and Berwald, both with Berwald’s usual blank expression. He couldn’t tell if she was copying him, or if she was legitimately just posing for the camera. She did look remarkably like him, most likely being a cousin or sibling.

He was about to read the comments when Skype beeped at him.

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Hi Ivan! How are you doing?_

_Ivan Braginski_

_Hello big sister. I am doing well. How are you?_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_I am well. It’s snowed now quite a lot, but we’ve only lost power once. I see you haven’t gotten on a lot recently. Does that mean you’ve been making friends?_

Ivan guessed that wasn’t untrue. He hadn’t been on for at least a week, and he _had_ been out with people he supposed he could call ‘friends’.

_Ivan Braginski_

_Yeah, I guess._

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Oh? That’s great? What are their names?_

Ivan wanted to tell her all about Yao. He wanted to tell her how Yao loved cookbooks and books in general. How he had a total sweet tooth and how endearing his oversized red shirts were. He wanted to tell her how he was maybe going to ask him out.

But Katerina was a strict, religious older sister. Ivan had kind of guessed he wasn’t exactly ‘straight’ since he was about fifteen. He had never, ever dreamt of bring it up with his sister, though.

_Ivan Braginski_

_Uh, Yao and Tino_

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Oh yeah? They sound nice. Have you found an Eastern Orthodox church yet?_

_Ivan Braginski_

_Not yet._

Ivan did not plan to ever find a church.

_Yekaterina Braginskya_

_Natalya is also looking at some British colleges now._

_Ivan Braginski_

_Oh? That’s good. What is she looking to do, again?_

_Yekateina Braginskya_

_Herbal studies and astrology the last time I checked_  
                _Hey, I have to go. Stay well, Vanya._  
 _Bye!_

 

_Yekaterina has left the conversation._


	14. I Think I Can Handle It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to be the canon, Lukas?”
> 
> “I don’t want to play.”
> 
> “What? What do you mean you ‘don’t want to play’?” Matthias implored. His poor head just couldn’t wrap itself around the concept of not wanting to play Monopoly.

It was Wednesday when Yao text him.

_Hey, are you going to the parade Friday?_

Ivan stared at the text. Yao had only ever texted him the once before.

_Um, what parade is that?_

_Macy’s Day parade! You have to go, now. Want to meet me near West Lake Mall Friday morning?_

Ivan felt giddy and light in the head.

_Sure._

\--

At about noon on Thursday, Ivan was standing at the doorstep to Berwald and Tino’s apartment. It seemed cozy, with a light and dark blue sign hanging on the door, ‘Welcome’ written across it in yellow.

He pressed the doorbell and waited. He heard footsteps, and then Matthias was there, grinning and beckoning Ivan inside.

“Tino! Ivan’s here!” Matthias called from the entry hall. He led Ivan down past several close doors to a common area, which had a dining table and was attached to a kitchen area. Tino was in there, stirring something in an opaque bowl. He smiled and waved when he saw Ivan.

“Hi! Lukas is picking up Emil’s friend, and he’ll be here soon. Have you ever played Monopoly? Matthias has it set up in the living room.”

“Oh, uh,” Ivan started, before Matthias piped up.

“I call the boot!”

“Oh, and take your coat off! You can hang it by the door,” Tino called.

Matthias was already going into a third room, which was a living room with a large window, an Ikea furniture set, and a Matthias, lying on his stomach on the floor beside a board game. H was counting out slips of colored paper and placing them around the board.

Lukas arrived within five minutes, with Emil and Emil’s friend, Leon, in tow.

“Leon, this is Matthias and Ivan, and Tino was in the kitchen. Everyone, this is Leon,” Emil explained, sitting beside Lukas, who was seated begrudgingly beside Matthias. Leon sat between Emil and Ivan.

“Do you want to be the canon, Lukas?”

“I don’t want to play.”

“What? What do you mean you ‘don’t want to play’?” Matthias implored. His poor head just couldn’t wrap itself around the concept of not wanting to play Monopoly.

“You heard me.”

“I could be the canon,” Emil offered, seeing how heartbroken Matthias was over older brother’s refusal.

“No, you’re always the hat. But, Lukas, you _have_ to play!”

“Stop being annoying, I have to help Tino cook, anyway. Idiot.”

Ivan watched this all silently. After Emil’s offer was shot down, he also remained silent. Ivan got the feeling that this was one of those awkward family holidays. Leon and Emil whispered to each other quietly as Matthias pouted.

“Fine. Leon, what piece do you want?”

“I don’t know. I’ll be like, the money bag, I suppose.”

“Okay. Ivan, you can be the dog.”

\--

Monopoly turned out not to be much fun by the end of it. Leon and Emil had apparently decided to gang up on Matthias to ensure he could win, and the Dane was sulking on the couch.

“The king has been defeated!” Emil announced as he and Leon went back into the kitchen. Lukas seemed to smile for a brief moment before going to the living room to find where Matthias had gone.

Tino watched this with a small smile before turning back to whatever dish he was preparing. Leon stood in the corner near Emil and stayed as quiet as he had been the past two hours.

“Well, so the turkey had another hour and the shepherd’s pie has about a half hour. I told Berwald I’d Skype him. Does anyone else want to say hi?”

Emil shrugged a ‘might as well’, and they all went back to the living room, where Lukas and Matthias were sitting on the couch; curiously, they were on opposite side of the couch. They booth looked rather dazed, with Matthias eyeing Lukas, obviously confused.

Emil was watching them suspiciously.

Tino sat on the ground and pulled a laptop onto his lap. Emil was beside him, with Leon on the other side.

Berwald answered the Skype call almost immediately. He and Tino talked (ahem, Tino talked), and Emil and Matthias both called a hello. When pressed to do so, Lukas also waved at the came, which Tino had aimed at him.

Ivan didn’t pay much attention to the conversation. Tino talked for nearly an hour, the others just awkwardly _there_. Lukas had gotten the shepherd’s pie out of the oven for him, and now the turkey was almost done.

“Nh, Alma wants to say hi.”

“Oh, okay! I haven’t seen Alma for a long while,” Tino said happily. “Hi Alma!”

“Helloh,” a deep feminine voice greeted from the other side. She had an obvious Minnesotan accent.

The oven beeped, signaling that the turkey was done.

“I’ll get it,” Lukas said, standing.

“I’ll help him,” Matthias said, jumping to his feet and following him. Emil watched them leave.

Tino chatted a little longer. Ivan heard the turkey being put back in the oven, but the two didn’t come back to the living room.

\--

Tino refused to let anyone help him carry the dishes out into the dining room. When he set it all out, everyone sat down.

“I can cut the turkey if you want,” Matthias offered, smiling and putting his hands out to take the big knife from Tino. Tino just smiled at him, sweetly yet completely unnervingly.

“No thank you, Matthias. I think I can handle it.”

Matthias sat back down.

Tino cut the turkey masterfully, and served pieces to everyone. Tino, being a devout Lutheran along with Lukas and Emil and Matthias, said a quick prayer, and they passed dishes around family-style.

“So, how is high school going for you two?” Tino asked, taking a bite of Jell-O and looking at Leon and Emil. Ivan hadn’t realized Emil was that young…

Leon and Emil exchanged glances before Emil said, “It’s fine, but our humanities teacher is a total douche.”

“Little brother! Don’t talk like that at the dinner table!”

“Well, it’s true,” Emil mumbled.

“You two are high school friends? That’s cool,” Matthias said as he buttered a biscuit

“Yeah, we’re both juniors.”

Matthias nodded as he took a bite of his biscuit.

“So, Leon, does your family not celebrate Thanksgiving?” Tino asked once silence had fallen.

“Ahm, my cousins do. But they, like, invited my step-uncle, and I don’t like him, so I accepted Emil’s invitation.”

“I see, that’s too bad about your family.”

“Not really,” he shrugged.

It became quiet again, and Ivan took a drink of the beverage that had been poured for him.

Matthias smiled at Ivan’s surprised expression. “I may or may not have put a bit of vodka in yours and Tino’s,” he whispered, winking conspiratorially.

“You did _not_ ,” Lukas hissed, overhearing what Matthias had said.

“Stop whispering at the table,” Emil said snarkily, glad to have something to scold his brother on.

Lukas silently glared at Matthias’ smug smile, who winked at him.

“Oh! Ivan, what are you doing tomorrow? Have you ever gone to the Macy’s Day Parade?” Tino asked suddenly.

“Ah, yes I am planning to go tomorrow.”

“Oh? Who are you going with?” he asked. It seemed to dawn on him as soon as he asked, though, because he immediately followed it up with, “Are you going with Yao?”

“Well, I…” Ivan knew he was blushing, damn his light complexion.

“Yao? Wang Yao?” Leon asked.

“Yeah? Do you know him?”

“He’s one of my cousins, yeah.”

“What a small world!” Tino exclaimed.

Ivan and Leon nodded, but neither said any more on the subject.

After the plates had been cleared away and Tino was bringing out some pumpkin pie, Leon’s phone buzzed. He read the message and sighed.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go pick up Yao. Thank you for having me,” he said as he got up from the table and bowed his head to Tino. “I’ll see you Monday, Emil.”

“Thank you for coming!” Tino called as Leon collected his items.

Leon nodded once more before leaving.

\--

Yao was sitting on a bench at the end of his street when Leon pulled up. “How long have you been sitting out here?” Leon asked when Yao got in the passenger seat of his car.

“I don’t know, a half hour or so?”

“Why? What happened this time?” Leon had a good idea of what happened, but he knew Yao liked to vent, anyway.

“ _He_ started talking to me. God, just because he fucked my mom doesn’t mean he can act like my dad.” Yao was angry. He wasn’t going to tell Leon exactly what his step-father had said.

“Yao, he married your mother over twenty years ago.”

“Yeah, but—ugh, I had thought that when I moved out when I turned eighteen I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Aiyah, I just… If it weren’t for Kiku, I wouldn’t have to deal with that asshole at all. Now, though, I have to see his stupid face every fucking holiday, and it’s going to drive me insane.”

“I know. Everyone avoids him except Kiku. I would expect him to be more sensitive to your feelings about it, but I guess that’s too much to ask. Maybe you should try celebrating with friends instead of family?”

“Kiku wouldn’t let me.”

“What do you mean ‘Kiku wouldn’t let you’? He’s like, six years younger than you. If it makes you feel this bad, having to see _him_ all the time, just tell Kiku to fuck himself, you know?”

Yao sighed

“How much did you eat?”

“Nothing. I left before we really sat down to eat.”

“Do you want to go get, like, McDonald’s or something?”

“No, I don’t want a stupid burger from _McDonald’s_.”

“You’re just in a bad mood. You want Burger King, then?”

Yao huffed and looked away. “…Fine.”

Leon smiled.

\--

Matthias had pulled out the beer after Leon had left. Tino had a stash of vodka that he shared with Ivan.

By the time he left, Ivan had a buzz from the high quality vodka: who knew Tino had such good taste in so many things.

He took the bus home and crashed on his bed as soon as he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leon is Hong Kong that's all i have to say sorry bye


	15. Didn't Pan Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want a fork?” Yao asked. He was smiling, obviously having seen the entire ordeal without saying anything.
> 
> “No, I can get it,” Ivan said; now it was a matter of dignity. He tried holding his chopsticks a new way, and failed once again.

The parade started at nine, and Ivan arrived at the overly-crowded West Lake mall at about 9:10. He texted Yao.

_Hello, I’m here. Where are you?_

_Meet me by the Starbucks, okay?_ Yao replied.

_Okay._

It was a chilly day and Ivan rubbed his hands as he made his way toward the coffee shop.

Just outside the door, Yao was waiting for him, holding two cups in his hands.

“Here,” Yao handed him one. “It’s cocoa.”

Ivan thanked him and took a sip.

“We should go closer to the street.” Ivan nodded and followed Yao as he weaved through the crowd.

Yao seemed off today, Ivan thought. He didn’t smile quite the same when he saw Ivan, and he was unusually quiet. Ivan expected Yao to be pointing at cute floats and waving at the costumed characters as they walked by, but he didn’t. He was distant.

When the last float went by, the crowd dispersed quickly.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?” Yao asked.

It was about eleven o’clock and Ivan _was_ sort of hungry.

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

Yao shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ivan considered this, and realized the golden opportunity he had. “What, you don’t have _any_ opinion?” he asked, a joking smile on his face. He nudged Yao with his elbow, who smiled weakly in return.

“I guess pho sounds good, since it’s so cold.”

It was a short walk to the closest pho shop, and it was nice and warm inside. They sat down and Yao suggested the beef one to Ivan, since he’d never had pho before. Ivan took his advice.

They ordered and then drank the provided tea in silence. It was a comfortable silence, but for the fact that a silent Yao was a Yao that Ivan was completely unaccustomed to. There was obviously something bothering Yao.

When the food came, Ivan decided to ask about it.

Yao looked at him, surprised, before looking back down at his soup and shaking his head. He tried to change the subject by saying, “You should pull the noodles to the top and cover your beef, to make sure it’s not raw.”

Ivan followed his instructions, and peered back up at Yao curiously. Yao sighed and put his spoon down.

“It’s nothing, really. Just, Thanksgiving really sucks with my family.”

He looked up and gave Ivan a half-smile. Ivan considered telling Yao about meeting Leon, but thought better of it, for now.

“I’m sorry. It is very unfortunate when family can’t get along.” Yao nodded.

“But, you see my brother knows I can’t stand his father, but he invited him to dinner anyway. So I left before dinner was even served.” Yao shook his head, looking back to the soup. “I’m sorry if I seem off. My brother’s upset that I just walked out, and now he’s arguing with my sister about it and it’s this huge fiasco now, and I’m just tired of it.”

“You shouldn’t be bothered by that. If you didn’t like the situation, it was perfectly right for you to remove yourself from it.”

Yao smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Yao seemed to relax after that.

“You can try your soup now. I’m sure the beef is cooked.”

Ivan nodded and picked up his spoon and chopsticks. He watched Yao pick up some noodles. He didn’t know how to use chopsticks, as he had never used them before. He tried picking up the noodles with his spoon and holding them there with his chopsticks, but they fell off the spoon. He tried to pick up the noodles with just the chopsticks, slightly spread and stationary, but that didn’t work either. Nothing he tried was working.

“Do you want a fork?” Yao asked. He was smiling, obviously having seen the entire ordeal without saying anything.

“No, I can get it,” Ivan said; now it was a matter of dignity. He tried holding his chopsticks a new way, and failed once again.

Finally, Yao took pity on him. “No, look here. You hold them like this.” Yao took Ivan’s chopsticks and positioned his hands, putting the utensils back between his fingers. “now move them like this,” he said, demonstrating with his own. “It’s easiest to eat the noodles like this,” he said, showing Ivan how he pulled some noodles onto his spoon and twirled the chopsticks to twist the noodles onto the spoon. He took his chopsticks out of the noodles and put the spoon, now filled with noodles, in his mouth.

Ivan’s first attempt didn’t work too well. In fact, the first ten tries didn’t quite pan out. It took him a long time to finish his soup.

When they did finish, Yao decided they should go down to the piers. “Have you ever gone to the curiosity shop down there?”

“I’ve never been to the piers.”

“Really? Wow, we really need to go there. And the arcade, near the Ferris wheel. And there’s a park with a lot of art sculptures, too.”

Yao went on about the great features of the piers for a long while as they made their way toward the waterfront.

Yao pulled Ivan to the ‘Olde Curiosity Shop’ first, leading him to the back and showing him the mummies on display. Then he dragged Ivan to the arcade. Yao played a round of Dance Dance Revolution as Ivan stood nearby awkwardly. Yao was very good.

Yao bought another Starbucks for himself, and Ivan bought a cocoa. They walked to the end of the piers and into the park.

They looked at all the sculptures (Yao seemed very enthusiastic about art), and were walking back to the park entrance when they saw a fountain. It depicted a father and son, reaching out to each other. Yao looked at this for a long time, and Ivan stood beside him. Ivan wasn’t so concerned with art as Yao was, but he liked how excited it seemed to make Yao. He smiled down at Yao as the man studied the fountain, and remembered what Tino had said a few days earlier. _“But seriously, Ivan. Make your move.”_

Yao was quiet as they walked to the large observing dock. They leaned against the railing, side by side, and Ivan was reminded just how short Yao was compared to him.

Yao watched the water pensively, and Ivan didn’t want to intrude on his thoughts, so he remained silent.

He did, however, still watch Yao out of the corner of his eye.

It was about four or five now, and the sun was low in the sky. This could be the perfect opportunity to ask Yao to be his boyfriend.

But… how?

What if Yao said no?

Was Ivan kidding himself, thinking he had a chance with Yao? Would it be better to stay good friend with Yao and never pursue a relationship, or try and fail, and have Yao never speak to him again?

How strongly did Ivan feel about Yao? He hadn’t even really considered it, to be honest. He just had this _feeling_ , but what that feeling really was, he couldn’t even say.

Yao sighed quietly, bringing Ivan back out of his thoughts. Yao was resting his chin on his palm now, and he was looking across the Olympic Mountains. It was a beautiful view, Ivan thought (though he couldn’t quite tell you if he was talking about the mountains or Yao).

“Yao?” Ivan asked quietly. Yao perked up at his name, smiling up at Ivan expectantly.

 _Shit. What do I do now?_  He had nothing clever to say, no sly way of asking him out. Did he just say ‘will you be my boyfriend?’ Is that wording weird? Do people Ivan’s age even call their significant other their ‘boyfriend’?

“Ivan? What is it? You look pale.”

Great, he’s making a complete fool of himself.

“Will you…” he trailed off, not being able to finish the sentence. Yao listened attentively, despite how much Ivan wanted him to just forget that Ivan existed so he could go hide under a rock.

“Yes?”

There were butterflies in his stomach and his hands were clammy. This was a mistake, possibly the worst one of his life. He shouldn’t have said anything.

“Ivan? What is it? Are you feeling alright? Do you need some water?” he asked, concerned, as he took Ivan’s arm and started moving toward the closest convenience store. “Let’s get you a glass of water.”

“Wait, no.” Ivan pulled his arm out of Yao’s grip. It’s now or never. “Yao, do you,” Ivan swallowed. Yao was staring up at him curiously. “Do you… uh.”

“What?”

Ivan took a deep breath. He’d come this far, so he might as well just spit it out. Without letting himself think any more, he blurted out, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Yao froze, and the curiosity melted off his face. “Oh.” He was shocked. (Not that he’d never thought about Ivan that way—he just didn’t expect this.)

At Yao’s response, Ivan regretted his words immensely. He messed up again. Of course Yao wouldn’t say yes.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. God, I’m sorry,” Ivan started, wanting more than anything to retract his question. Yao probably hated him now.

“No, no, calm down Ivan. I’m just confused,” Yao looked back over at the water. “Someone so young as you shouldn’t waste your time with someone old and boring like me.”

It briefly registered in the back of Ivan’s mind that he didn’t even know how old Yao _was_ , before his shock at Yao’s self-deprecating comment took over his brain. “What?” Ivan asked, sounding a bit more scandalized than he had meant to, “You’re not a waste of time! If you were a waste of time, I’d never want to do anything productive ever again!”

Ivan wanted to hit himself. He’s probably just making Yao uncomfortable now. “Ah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Will you shut up? I’m thinking.”

Ivan’s mouth snapped shut in surprise at Yao’s authoritative tone. He waited quietly, though, as Yao deliberated (most likely on how he was going to say no).

There were several moments of silence, and Yao made no sign that he was about to speak.

The sun was just over the mountains, now, and Ivan was pretty sure he knew what Yao’s final answer was going to be. Why did he ever think it would be different?

“Uh, Yao? It’s okay, you don’t have to be nice. I, um, I’ll go now, if you want me to. Sorry,” he mumbled, turning to leave. He just needed to go home and have a drink.

“No, no, don’t go.” Ivan froze. “I’m sorry; I had thought I’d said yes already. I just got a little preoccupied with how I’d tell Kiku about this.”

_What._

“Last time I dated someone Kiku totally flipped his shit,” Yao explained, trying to wipe that confused face off of Ivan. “But no, yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

It took Ivan a moment to compute this. _He said yes. He said yes!_ Ivan grinned.

Yao laughed at his ridiculous smile and pushed against his arm playfully.


	16. Communist Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So where are you gonna take him out to?”
> 
> “What? ‘Take him out’?”
> 
> “Yeah, like, your first date? Your first real date?” Matthias pressed.
> 
> “I didn’t even think of that.”
> 
> Matthias and Tino exchanged shocked glances. “Oh, hon. Don’t worry, we’ll help you.”

Ivan walked Yao home, or as far as Yao would let him. He said good bye about a block away from his apartment, giving Ivan an awkward smile before waving and walking off.

It was about six thirty when Yao got home, and Mei and Kiku were in the living room, chatting on the couch. It sounded like they had resolved the disagreement about yesterday. It was funny how they always resolved things, most of which revolved around Yao himself, without Yao’s participation.

“Hey! We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Have you been at the library this whole time? I thought you were going to make dinner,” Kiku greeted.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

Yao entered the small kitchen and set about preparing the food. Dinner had completely escaped his mind. He listened to his sister recount all of the deals she’d gotten shopping that morning. At one point, she got up to grab some ramune from the fridge for herself and Kiku, and paused to quietly whisper to Yao.

“So, who were _you_ with all day? Perhaps, dare I say, that Russian from the library?” She winked at him conspiratorially.

“First off, his name is _Ivan_ , and second off, what would it matter to you if I _was_ with him?”

“Well, I guess I don’t really care. As long as you two behave and use proper protection it’s all good with me!”

“Wh-wh-what?” Yao sputtered. When did Mei get to be this… this way?

“What what?” Kiku asked as he entered the kitchen, taking his drink from Mei.

“Nothing! Nothing. There is nothing, that’s what,” Yao exclaimed, grabbing Kiku by the shoulders and steering him out of the kitchen. “I cannot have all of these people in the kitchen as I cook!” When he had seated Kiku back in his place, he returned to the kitchen and turned on Mei, who smiled innocently.

“Can you not run your mouth off like that?”

“So you’re not denying your relationship with this ‘Ivan’? Have you let him touch your boobs yet?”

Yao glared at her silently, and she put her hand to her mouth.

“Wait, so really? You and ‘Ivan’? Seriously? The Chinese and the Russian. It’s like a communist sandwich! Wow.”

“Mei! Keep your voice down! I’m not going to tell Kiku just yet, so you must also keep your mouth shut. Alright?”

“You mean you’ve been keeping it a secret? Does that mean you and him have been an item for a _while_? And you didn’t even tell me? Rude. You have to tell me _everything_.”

“No, no you don’t—ugh. I’ll tell you later. Right now, Kiku is going to be very suspicious if you stay in here much longer. Also, I need to get back to cooking. Pretty much, get out of my kitchen.”

“Sheesh, fine, okay. Your secret’s safe with me, et cetera, whatever.”

\--

“So, how’d the parade go? Was it fun?” Tino asked as soon as Ivan arrived at work that day.

“Did you ask Yao out yet?” Matthias asked.

“Well…”

“You didn’t? Again? Ivan, you have got to get a move on!”

“Yeah! Get your head in the game, man!”

“No, I did ask him! I asked him.” Ivan stopped right there. It was still a little hard to believe.

Tino and Matthias nodded expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, they both frowned and looked at each other.

“Oh no. He did he say no?” Tino asked, shocked. “But I thought he really like you! I’m usually so good at telling these things! I’m sorry, it’s probably my fault.” Tino trailed off, mumbling to himself.

“What? No, he said yes.”

“Oh!” Tino perked up, relieved. “Good! I felt so bad for a second there!”

Ivan smiled and shook his head. “No, he said yes.” He wasn’t sure if he was reiterating for Tino’s sake or his own.

“So where are you gonna take him out to?”

“What? ‘Take him out’?”

“Yeah, like, your first date? Your first _real_ date?” Matthias pressed.

“I didn’t even think of that.”

Matthias and Tino exchanged shocked glances. “Oh, hon. Don’t worry, we’ll help you.”

\--

They didn’t get a chance to just yet, though, because at that moment Lovino and Antonio came through. Antonio greeted them mildly as Lovino snapped at them to get to work.

Arthur and Tino worked the bar together that night. With Berwald out of town and Francis on the dance floor, Ivan took it upon himself to keep an eye on Tino (Ivan didn’t know the story behind why, but he knew Berwald always paid close attention to Tino, and was close by him any time there might be trouble).

Around eleven, Ivan saw Tino answer his cell phone, and whisper something to Arthur as he went into the backroom. He looked somewhat upset, which concerned Ivan. Looking across the floor, Ivan noticed that Sadiq had also seen, and the Turk motioned for Ivan to follow him, and see what was going on.

The backroom was darkened; Tino had left and gone into the alley along the side of the building. Ivan followed.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see how soon I can. I’m sorry. Yeah, I know. Yeah. Love you too.” Ivan heard a phone click off, and found Tino leaning aginst the alley wall, sighing as he slipped the phone into his pocket. Ivan tried to close the door quietly behind him, but failed miserably. “Hey, Ivan.”

“Hi. What’s up?” Tino was definitely upset. It wasn’t hard to read the Finn’s expressive face.

“I… well. That was Berwald, just now. His mom…” Tino swallowed. “They’re being advised to say their last…” Tino broke off. His shoulders slumped. “It’s really hard to hear him like that. His mother had been getting better, but two days ago, she…” He broke off again.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s… it’s okay.” Ivan was really horrible at comforting others.

“He hasn’t slept in days. I’m so… worried about him. I can’t imagine… watching someone I loved dying like that. Can you? It must be so horrible.” Tino was blinking rapidly now.

“I don’t have to imagine what it’s like, but neither do you, stop trying to.”

Tino stared at Ivan for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“No, this isn’t about me, or you. It’s about Berwald, right?” Tino nodded shortly.

“Do you need me to tell Arthur what’s going on? I can get Lovino to let you off early, maybe, if you want.”

Tino nodded again.

“Do you want me to call a taxi? Or is your car here?”

Tino shook his head. “I drove. Thank you, though.”

Ivan nodded. “Do you want me to walk you to your car? Then I could tell Arthur.”

Tino nodded again.

They set off slowly, Ivan watching Tino carefully. They were silent as they went, and they had gotten a block away from the club before Ivan heard a small sob escape Tino. Tino groaned and wiped at his face. Ivan hadn’t noticed him starting to cry.

“God, why am I crying,” he groaned, before another gasping sob escaped him.

“Don’t hold it in. That doesn’t do any good,” Ivan advised him quietly. Tino’s shoulders shook silently, as did his hands and he tried to wipe away his tears.

Ivan didn’t really know what to do, to be honest. At home, he had never had friends he had to comfort, and if one of his sisters was upset, the other would console her. Ivan only faintly remembered being cradled by his mother as a small child. That was literally the extent of his knowledge.

“Can I just, can I just sit down here for a bit?” Tino asked quietly, obviously not trusting his voice.

Tino leaned against the storefront and sunk to the ground. Ivan didn’t know what to do, but standing there awkwardly didn’t seem right, so he sat beside Tino on the ground.

Tino pulled his knees to his chest, and hugged them, putting his face down. Ivan didn’t know what to do as Tino started silently sobbing. He didn’t know if he was supposed to comfort him physically or say something. He obviously wouldn’t know what to say, so he patted him on the shoulder instead.

Tino hiccupped and looked over at Ivan. Without warning, Tino was wrapping his arms around Ivan and hugging him tightly.

Ivan didn’t move. Was he supposed to hug back, or what? Awkwardly, he put one arm around Tino.

\--

It took a while, but after Tino was able to pull himself together, they got him to his car and Tino drove home. Ivan made his way back to the club.

It wasn’t until after the close was closed and Ivan was getting ready to go that Arthur beckoned him over to the bar.

He leaned over the bar so he could speak quietly. “Now, what happened with Tino?” he whispered.

“He got a call about Berwald’s mother and—”

“No, that’s all I need to know. Don’t mention it to the other, alright? This should be kept private.” Arthur looked into Ivan’s eyes purposefully, as if daring him to counter.

“Yeah, sure, of course I won’t.”

“Good man,” Arthur smiled and gripped his shoulder briefly.

Sadiq took this as cue to come over and grumble something to Arthur, which signaled ‘time to go’ for Ivan.

He walked home quickly, wondering if he should go check on Tino the next morning. Tino _did_ live near the library, too…

\--

Sadiq hitched a ride home with Arthur. It was about half past four in the morning, and he was ready to pass out.

He hung his coat up in the closet and was heading straight for his bedroom when he became aware of his surroundings. He could have _sworn_ that he had turned off all the lights before he had left for work… Unless he was being robbed, there was no way those lights would have been turned on.

Sadiq’s heart thrummed as he inched toward the living room door. He didn’t hear any movement in the other room but he was not going to take a chance. He knew if he jumped into the room very quickly, he could flip the switch off and take the intruder by surprise.

He was bracing himself to do just that when he heard _it_.

“Miaou.”

What the fuck?

He peeked around the corner to find _Herakles_ sitting at the couch with a cat on his shoulder and another on his lap.

Sadiq stood in the doorway sputtering until Herakles looked up at him. Then he snapped. “You brat! What are you doing here? I thought you were at ‘Kiku’s’!” Sadiq cried, trying to sound angry  (failing miserably, though; he was really just relieved that Herakles _came back_ ). Herakles was unaffected as always. He raised an eyebrow, before letting it fall as he looked down at the cat in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” was all Herakles said. Herakles said ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’. Sadiq didn’t respond for a moment, continuing to sputter stupidly before his mouth caught with his brain.

“What?”

The question annoyed Herakles visibly (though to the untrained eye it wouldn’t have been _visible_ per se, but Sadiq was very accustomed to recognizing an irked face on the Greek). “I _said_ I’m sorry.”

Sadiq naturally wanted to push this; make him specify what he was sorry for, say that this apology ‘wasn’t good enough for him’, but Sadiq knew he was also in the wrong. To be honest (he’d never tell anyone, though), he missed Herakles too much to be a little shit right now.

“Me too.”

Herakles didn’t say anything further, and remained silent and still as Sadiq came over to the couch, removed the cat from his lap and shoulder, and laid down beside him, head in Herakles’ lap.

Herakles fake-glared down at him, before running his hands through Sadiq’s hair and sighing. “Fine,” he said passively, deciding to allow this. “But I get to control what we watch, since you were so very rude to Larry just now. Tut, tut.” Herakles leaned over to reach the remote, clicking the TV on. He flipped it to a Greek drama silently.

Sadiq sighed. That was fine. He had no idea what the actors were saying, but as long as Herakles’ hands didn’t leave his hair, he was fine.

He might just fall asleep there.


	17. Crepes and Curry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizaveta pursed her lips. “I don’t have to tell you about that. You’re not my real mom!”
> 
> “Stop calling me that you brat! I am male! I am a male adult and I refuse to be addressed like that!”
> 
> “Sure, sure. Whatever old man,” Liz teased, grabbing at Yao’s pony tail.
> 
> “I swear to god Elizaveta, stop doing that! It’s so immature.”

Yao went to Symposium early that morning. And, as always, before Yao had to say anything, Elizaveta knew exactly what was going on.

He had come in, like usual, and ordered a latte as he asked Elizaveta how she was doing.

“I should be asking you that. Why are you so happy today?”

“What? I don’t know what you mean by that…”

“That Russian from the other day, huh? He asked you out, I’d bet my hair on it.”

“What? I—what do you mean?” Yao sputtered. Am I really that obvious? Liz gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. But how did you know?”

“Oh please, Yao, I always know these things. Woman’s intuition, I guess you could say.” She tapped her temple knowingly.

She then ‘blackmailed’ him into telling her the entire story of how he had met Ivan. By the end of it, he had finished his large cup of coffee and she was grinning at him.

“That’s so cute! You two sound like kids!”

Yao glared. “I think you might think that is a good thing, but I am an adult and it is insulting! I am older than you are! I should be calling you the kid!” he crossed his arms stubbornly. “Speaking of you, what’s up with that Gilbert guy?”

Elizaveta pursed her lips. “I don’t have to tell you about that. You’re not my real mom!”

“Stop calling me that you brat! I am male! I am a male adult and I refuse to be addressed like that!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever old man,” Liz teased, grabbing at Yao’s pony tail.

“I swear to god Elizaveta, stop doing that! It’s so immature.”

“Says the guys who calls his steady a ‘boyfriend’. You’re almost thirty years old; you’re not in middle school anymore!”

They were to the point where neither remembered what had started their friendly bickering, and neither of them had paid attention to the Austrian, who had been playing some piece of Chopin moments before until he stopped to snap at them.

“Can you two knock it off, I’m trying to practice.”

“Oh, shut up, princess,” Elizaveta called back. Roderich huffed loudly to express his displeasure before turning back to the piano. Liz and Yao smiled conspiratorially to each other.

\--

Ivan visited Tino about noon, and Tino explained how Berwald’s mother had passed away during the night. Tino was flying out for the funeral to be there with Berwald.

Tino thanked h8im for checking on him, but explained that he had to get back to packing.

Now Ivan went to the library, bringing his books to return. He didn’t plan to look for any books once they ones he already had were checked back in. He really came to see Yao (his boyfriend, he reminded himself. He smiled to himself each time his re-occurred to him).

Yao was sitting where he usually did, with a stack of books beside him. Ivan sat in the chair adjacent to him, and Yao greeted him with a fleeting smile before returning to his book.

“We can go somewhere in a second. I’m just trying to find a good beef recipe.”

“Okay.”

Yao flipped through several more recipes in that book, taking notes down into his red journal, and moved onto another recipe book. He filed through two or three more before he turned to Ivan.

“Will you help me bring these books downstairs?”

“Sure, of course.” Ivan took the bigger stack of books laid out in front of them, and was mildly surprised at how heavy they actually were. He was impressed that Yao had been able to carry all of these upstairs by himself.

When they arrived at the cookbook aisle, Yao handed his several books over to Ivan, who held the bulk of them as Yao reshelved each one individually in the proper place. Ivan had to admit that he was rather cute, scanning the shelves carefully with such a look of concentration.

“Okay,” Yao said when he was done. They walked toward the exit side by side. “Where do you want to go now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hm…” Yao considered their options silently. He didn’t look at Ivan, and seemed very focused, looking down the streets either way. “Do you just want to walk around?”

“Sure.” It sounded strange to Ivan, just walking around, but that was okay. He did strange things with Yao almost every time they did _anything_.

“Okay. Maybe we could walk toward West Lake Mall. They have a really good crepe place there.”

Ivan nodded, and they went off. There were a lot of people walking their dogs today, Ivan noted. He also noted that while he shied away from all of them, Yao seemed to coo at every single of them—even the particularly ugly ones.

“So I’m thinking we should have lunch at West Lake. Crepes and curry sound good?”

“Curry? Uh, sure.”

Yao laughed. “You are going to try so much new food because of me. Maybe I could make you some dim sum, too.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Yao just laughed again.

West Lake was surprisingly calm, relative to what it had been the day before at the parade. Yao led them inside and up several escalators to the food court.

“I’ll order food if you’ll find us a seat.”

Ivan nodded and began scavenging around for an open table. The café was rather busy so it took him a bit to find one. By the time he had taken his coat off and put onto the back of te chair, Yao was already coming to sit down, tray full of food.

“I hope you like nutella. I got a crepe with bananas and nutella.” Yao waited for Ivan’s response. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had nutella.”

“Well…”

“Oh no. Never, ever had nutella? Ever? That’s sacrilegious. I don’t know if I can talk to you until you have it. Here,” Yao said, shoving a folded crepe into his face. He hesitantly took a bite.

Yao watched expectantly.

“This is pretty good.”

“Right? Nutella is the best.” Yao took the crepe back and took a bite himself. “I have two forks for the curry. Dig in.”

By the time they had finished, Ivan’s mouth was burning. He hadn’t expected the spice level, though he refused to let it show. Yao seemed unaffected by this altogether.

“How’d you like it?” Yao asked as they he took his last bite.

“It is good. Very different.”

“Spicy, you mean?”

“Well, yes,” Ivan trailed off.

Yao was looking at his phone now. He was scrolling through messages before he frowned and looked up, scanning around the food court. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Ivan asked, concerned.

“Uh, we should leave, like now.”

“What? What’s going on?”

 “Come on,” Yao said, standing and grabbing up their garbage, beckoning for Ivan to follow.

Ivan furrowed his brows before complying. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we should just get going. I’m getting tired of sitting, that’s all!”

He led Ivan toward the escalators quickly. The duo was about ten feet from the top of the escalator when a voice called out to them.

“Yao! There you are! You didn’t text me back! Rude.”

Yao froze, slowly turning to face the two young women approaching them.

“Hello, Mei. Funny running into you here.”

The one whom Ivan supposed was Mei came forward to give Yao a short hug, who reciprocated it begrudgingly. The small woman, maybe twenty five or six, studied Ivan over Yao’s shoulder for the short seconds that the hug lasted for. Ivan was surprised to notice that she was actually the pink librarian from the library, who was always helping Yao put books away. So she was actually his sister?

“So this is Ivan?” she asked as she stepped back, smirking at Yao.

Yao sighed and nodded. “Yes, this is Ivan. Ivan, this is my little sister Mei.”

“Have you two already had lunch? We’re on our breaks right now.”

“Oh, that’s too bad because we were just leaving. Right now.”

“Oh, okay. We should have Ivan over for dinner sometime, yeah?” Mei said, winking at Ivan. “Well, see you. We have to get going, bye!” The two women moved off toward the restaurants.

\--

“Alright, well. I’m supposed to go into work early. Christmas is a really big thing at the ‘Dragon’. Book drives, et cetera. And Buchanan just fired the other girl who worked there.” Yao sighed. “I’ll see you Monday, right? At the library?”

“Yeah.”

They departed outside of West Lake, and Yao started toward the waterfront, and toward the ‘Magic Dragon’.


	18. Mr. Adventurer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was just plopping the last cookie batter onto the cookie sheet, and calculating if he had enough ingredients to make another batch when his phone buzzed.
> 
> It was Ivan.
> 
> Sounds great, if you’re still up to it.
> 
> Yao smiled. He turned off the oven and sat on the lip of the sink.
> 
> He wondered if he should respond right now or wait until morning. Lunch with Ivan would help Yao immensely, he thought. He threw the dishes he had used into the sink, put the cookie sheet in the fridge so he could bake them another time, grabbed a cookie and went to bed.

It turned out that Yao really _was_ busy for a few weeks after that. Over two weeks, they only managed to grab a quick coffee once, and Yao was only able to go to the library half as much as usual, and for shorter times.

Most of that time he spent with Ivan at the library, however, was not focused on books as much as on talking to Ivan. Yao talked a lot, so all Ivan had to do was listen. Yao talked about the weather and how it was getting colder out, he talked about his co-workers, the insane Scottish brother of Arthur, and his own siblings, and the new recipes he had tried. Ivan learned that Yao loved snow, that his younger co-worker, Riley, had a knack for stacking books like card houses, that Yao tried new cake recipes almost every day and gave the leftovers to his sweet old neighbor across the hall. He also got the feeling that Yao still hadn’t told Kiku about Ivan (though Ivan couldn’t be upset about that—neither of _his_ sisters had any idea about Yao).

Tino had gone out to the funeral for Berwald, and when they returned with Berwald’s younger sister, Alma, in tow. She had taken care of their elderly parents, and so she was coming out to stay with the two of them as things were sorted out back home.

It was about two weeks before Christmas now, and Yao was happily telling Ivan about some family reunion Arthur was having as they sat at their table. (It was so great for Arthur, Yao had said, because his family had a tendency to hate each other, so much so that the youngest sister, Marie, moved to Ireland so her brothers wouldn’t try to visit her, but even she was coming out!)

Apparently Yao was very excited to see his youngest brother, eight year old Peter, who was being raised in Cardiff by the middle son, Owen. Owen was a businessman (though Yao couldn’t confidently say what his business actually was).

This short briefing Yao gave him let him not be completely shocked when he went into work the next day to find Arthur’s entire family gathered around the bar, all chattering raucously. By now, though, through Yao’s descriptions, Ivan could rather easily identify the difference between them all.

First, of course, there was Buchanan, the eldest brother who had dark red hair and a beard, and always wore a kilt. Riley was a young, short, red-haired boy in his mid- to early-twenties. He was a half inch or so shorter than his twin sister Marie. Marie was a fierce woman with dark red hair like Buchanan, but hers was smooth and curly. The three of them had mean tempers, as Ivan had already seen with fifteen minutes of observing them.

Then there was Owen, the quiet, seemingly even-tempered business man, who was wearing his suit and drinking daintily from a glass of what looked to be Perry. Owen seemed rather quaint and quiet next to his siblings, but Ivan guessed that that may just be because he did not want to get between whatever his other siblings were bickering about. Arthur even looked to be holding his tongue, not wanting to start a quarrel.

Peter was the only one that Ivan did not see, which probably should have been more concerning that it was to Ivan. An eight year old running around a night club before-hours would not be the best thing. Arthur and his siblings were too preoccupied chatting to notice that  their brother was not there, and Tino was setting up everything for the long night ahead.

Tino glanced up occasionally to look over at Berwald, who had brought his sister for the short time before work started (apparently everyone was bringing visiting relatives to work now?). They were both watching the general area of the bar, and when Tino looked up Berwald made eye contact with him for a split moment before looking at his sister, to respond to something she had said.

Alma was a strongly built Swedish woman, just two or three inches shorter than her brother (placing her at about six feet or so), and Ivan got this weird feeling that she, like her brother, was rather attracted to Tino. Which was really creepy, in Ivan’s opinion. 

When Ivan looked back to the bar, it seemed that Tino had somehow found Peter, and was now making him a drink at the bar.

\--

Arthur washed glasses idly as he listened to his brothers talk. They were an easily irritated group, so Arthur knew to refrain from interjecting anything until they had all had at least one pint each. That still didn’t stop Riley and Buchanan from cracking Catholic jokes, and it definitely didn’t stop Marie from cracking a bottle over Buchanan’s head.

Eventually, after they had separated the three of them, Own brought up a subject all five of them had been expecting, but equally dreading.

“So, uh, you all know my work is sending me to Beijing.” Arthur poured Marie another shot of whiskey, and they all nodded. “Well, I am very excited and I think Peter would love it there, but…” There was a sigh that went through the group. “Yeah, you know. I’ll be working too much to actually take care of him. I know none of you can take him right now, but we do need to find something for him.”

There was a contemplative silence.

Well,” Buchanan said, “As long as he doesn’t go to live with some bloody Catholic.”

Marie punched him in the face.

“Hey, come on, you two. This is serious.”

\--

Meanwhile, the said boy was running around near the bar, play-pretending to be a sea captain on some dangerous mission. He even managed to get behind the bar without anyone noticing. He smiled to himself proudly and went to the room behind the bar, which was filled with shelves of bottles and glasses and one short blond man. Peter didn’t recognize him, but he was climbing on a short ladder to reach a bottle on the top shelf, and Peter figured he should introduce himself.

Peter cleared his throat, apparently startling the man, who nearly fell off the stool and just barely caught the bottle, which he had just grabbed. He turned to Peter, surprised, and Peter introduced himself without pause or concern for the man.

“Hello! I am Peter! What’s your name?” he asked eagerly, leaning forward on the balls of his feet.

“Uh…” Tino looked around hesitantly, before replying, “Hello Peter… are you supposed to be back here?”

Peter shrugged.

“What’s your name?”

“Tino. You’re Arthur’s little brother, aren’t you?” Peter nodded. “Uh, I really don’t think you’re supposed to be here?”

“I’m on an adventure!” Peter made a stance reminiscent of a superhero. “I’m very sneaky! None of my brothers even noticed me come back here.”

Tino smiled at his childishness. Peter must have been seven or eight, he figured, and didn’t mean any harm by ‘sneaking’ around. Tino still had to get him back out of the storage room, though, before something bad happened.

“Well then, Mr. Adventurer, how about I make you a Shirley Temple? Would you like that?”

Peter nodded excitedly.

\--

We’ve got two weeks to figure this out, I suppose, before you go to Beijing, right?” Arthur reasoned.

“Well, actually,” Own started, rubbing the back of his neck. “They moved my departure date up to this Monday. I’m sure we can figure something out, though, at least for temporary, right?”

“Hopefully.”

\--

Alma and Berwald were making small talk over in one of the corners of the club. Alma was talking about some skier whom she used to follow in the professional league, and how she wanted to check out the slopes over in the Washington mountains.

The two of them had been raised by a very Swedish family, and so even now their conversations were made of an awkward mixture of Swedish and English.

Alma was a year younger than Berwald, and had never lived anywhere other than home with her parents. She had met Tino once before the funeral, and really liked him. Like, _really_ liked him.

There was a break in the conversation when they saw Tino come out of the back of the bar with a young boy. Tino went about making some sugary pink drink for the little one.

Berwald watched fondly as Tino gave the drink to the boy, smiling and patting him on the head, and presumably asking him if it was good, because the boy was nodding enthusiastically.

“You know, brother,” Alma started, her voice thick with her Minnesotan accent, “if you like, you’d better put a ring on it.” She nodded once before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘or I will.’

She looked over at him, and saw that he had grown red. If she were anyone else, she would’ve thought he was angry, but Alma knew he was actually just embarrassed.

Arthur looked over at Tino and Peter, and smiled. His brothers were standing now, and taking up their jackets, and none of them saw Tino giving Peter the sugary drink. Peter grinned and thanked Tino before going over to Owen.

“So, it looks like Peter likes you, yeah?”

Tino smiled and shrugged, “He’s just a friendly little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, yeah, he is.”

Tino could practically see the gears working in Arthur’s head. “You know, you don’t think you’d be able to babysit him a couple nights in the next couple weeks, do you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I can check with Berwald…”

“That would be might swell of you!” Arthur grinned and patted the Finn on the  back.

The club was slow that night, and Ivan only had to break up on small fight. Arthur and Berwald’s siblings had left about fifteen minutes before the club had opened. Now, at the end of the night, Arthur was talking to Tino, who was calling Berwald over to join whatever discussion they were having. Ivan didn’t think it would be very much interesting, whatever it was they were talking about, so he took his leave.

As he walked home, he saw that he had a text from about six hours before. It was from Yao.

_Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?_

Ivan checked the time and figured that four AM was not a good time to respond—Yao would definitely be asleep by now. He replied anyway.

_Sounds great, if you’re still up to it._

\--

Yao had gone to sleep about ten that night, until he started having dreams, and not necessarily the _good_ kind of dreams. He woke up about midnight. All of his blankets were knocked onto the floor, and he was breathing heavily.

Once he regained himself, he sat up and went to get a glass of water. He grabbed his phone on the way out the door. Ivan had yet to respond to his invitation to lunch—he was probably still at work.

It was a shame, Yao could’ve used the distraction to plan their outing tomorrow.

Yao tip-toed past Kiku’s door (if one could even call it a door. He literally took the wood door off its hinges the day they had moved in and replaced them with curtains). The curtains were very thin, so Yao was very quiet as he passed them. He did not need to get Kiku up to deal with his issues.

Yao poured water from the pitcher in the fridge and sat at the table. He did not want to think about his dream, so he preoccupied himself with reciting recipes he had memorized. He mentally recited every step of every stir-fry he’d ever made. When he ran out of those to recite, he recited them again in Mandarin, and then Japanese.

Every time his focus lapsed, the images from his dream reappeared behind his eyes.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was one now. He was tired, but he didn’t dare go back to sleep.

He could read, but his mind tended to wander when he did, and he couldn’t let that happen right now.

So naturally, he began to bake. Cookies were the easiest, so he went about getting the ingredients out for them.

He baked batch after batch, and by four AM he had nearly every open counter space filled with cookies. He was just plopping the last cookie batter onto the cookie sheet, and calculating if he had enough ingredients to make another batch when his phone buzzed.

It was Ivan.

_Sounds great, if you’re still up to it._

Yao smiled. He turned off the oven and sat on the lip of the sink.

He wondered if he should respond right now or wait until morning. Lunch with Ivan would help Yao immensely, he thought. He threw the dishes he had used into the sink, put the cookie sheet in the fridge so he could bake them another time, grabbed a cookie and went to bed.


	19. Kiku’s consternated protests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan knew that he was eight inches or so taller than Yao, so there should be no way that their hands nudged as often as they did on that short walk.

The next morning, as Yao made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, he remembered all the cookies he had made, and how he hadn’t put them away.

Kiku was already in the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hand, as he looked over the dozens and dozens of cookies littering the counter with a look of concern and weariness.

“So,” Kiku started, “nightmares?”

Yao quirked the corner of his mouth downward and looked away, busying himself with getting a bowl from the cupboards. “Yeah.”

Kiku sighed, “You know you can wake me up when that happens.”

Yao just nodded, pouring cereal and milk into his bowl.

Kiku put his cup down. “No, seriously, Yao. It’s what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, I know.” Yao looked at him and willed Kiku to drop the subject.

“Good.”

At that moment, a jangling came from the front door, and Mei’s voice called out, “Hello! Good morning, boys!”

Kiku went out of the kitchen to greet her.

“Mei? What are you doing here?” Yao heard her set down her bag on the sofa.

“My roommate threw a party last night and I thought it would be easier to come over than to venture into the kitchen over there.”

“Couldn’t you have told them to go home?” Kiku suggested.

“No! I couldn’t!” she exclaimed, coming nearer to the kitchen as they spoke. “They all only spoke Polish!”

“Well, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. We have eggs in the fridge.”

Mei entered the kitchen and greeted Yao, shooting him a concerned glance after noticing all the cookies.

She made her eggs and ate them as Yao buttered himself some toast. Kiku had finished his coffee and was now drinking a cup of tea and reading a newspaper when Mei and Yao went out to the living room. Yao had packed some cookies into a paper bag and folded it over.

“So, what are you doing today, Kiku?” he asked as he pulled on his coat.

“I’m going into work, then I might catch Herakles before his shift starts at the museum. What about you, Mei?”

“I’ve got a short shift at work today,” Mei chimed in as Yao buttoned his coat. “Then Lien and I are going shopping.”

“And what are you doing, Yao?” Kiku asked, eyeing Yao over his newspaper as Yao bundled himself up.

Yao stalled his answer as he wrapped a scarf around his neck an unnecessary number of times. This could be the perfect time to tell Kiku, and then leave. Kiku didn’t have his shoes on and he wouldn’t be able to ask for clarifications about Yao’s boyfriend or anything if he just blurted out ‘I have a boyfriend’ and went right out the door.

Perfect.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yao said, throwing the end of his scarf over his shoulder one last time. “Going to bring some cookies to a friend, have lunch.”

“With who?”

“Ah…” Yao picked up the bag of cookies and had one hand on the doorknob when he said, “My boyfriend. Bye!”

He rushed out the door and slammed it shut on Kiku’s consternated protests.

\--

Yao had sent Ivan the address of a café as soon as Ivan had responded that morning. Ivan had been surprised that Yao was still up.

He probably shouldn’t ask about that, though.

Right now, anyhow, he was seated at a small table in this busy little café, waiting for Yao. He didn’t wait too long, however, before the bright red shirt appeared at the front, signaling Yao’s arrival. Yao was led to the table and seated himself opposite Ivan. They smiled at each other shyly and Yao placed the bag of cookies on the table.

“I hope you like chocolate chip cookies—I hope you’ve _had_ chocolate chip cookies,” Yao teased playfully as he slid the bag over to Ivan.

“Okay now, I _have_ had _some_ things, you know.”

Yao smiled cheekily and said, “I know, I know.”

The waiter came then, and Ivan felt a niggling in the corner of his mind that something was up with this waiter.

“Bonjour, mon amis, can I take your order?” The man had a smooth French accent.

Ivan didn’t know what he wanted yet, even though he had extra time before Yao had even arrived to look at the menu, so he hurriedly scanned through the menu to find _something_ that looked good.

Yao looked up at the waiter with a smile and said, “I’ll have the French Toast.”

“Ah yes, today’s special,” he said as he jotted down the order. “Anything to drink?” Yao shook his head. “Non? Okay. Say,” the waiter paused, “I do not know you, do I?”

Ivan looked up at Yao and the waiter and froze internally as he looked into the waiter’s eyes. It was none other than Francis Bonnefoy.

“Eh? What is this? Ivan? I did not even notice! Bonjour! And, uh, Yao? Yes? Of course!”

Yao obviously didn’t recognize him. “What?”

“We went to school together—at uni? We were in a few of the same classes!”

“Oh. Yeah, Francis? Yeah. I remember.” Yao smiled, short and tight.

“It is so funny to run into you here, no? It has been so long!”

“Oh yes, so funny.”

“Anyway, I didn’t know you two knew each other? What a small world.” Yao shot Ivan a funny look, almost asking ‘you know him too?’ “Anyway,” Francis continued, “What would you like?”

“Ah…” Ivan had been distracted from deciding, so he glanced down and chose the first thing he read. “Omelet… du fromage?

Francis smiled and wrote this down. “Anything else? Appetizers, drinks?”

Yao shook his head no so Ivan also declined.

When Francis left, Yao turned to Ivan and asked, “How do _you_ know him?”

“Auh, I guess you could say through work? And you? You went to university with him…?” Ivan didn’t really like the sound of that; from what he’s heard about college parties, mixed with Yao within the vicinity of some like _Francis_.

“Yeah we were in some of the same courses in culinary school.”

“Oh.” Ivan thought for a moment before asking, “Then why don’t you work at a restaurant or the like?” He regretted it immediately. There was a fleeting expression on Yao’s face for all of a split second that Ivan couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t like it.

Yao shrugged and said, “Well, I guess it just didn’t work out for me.” Yao looked uncomfortable with this topic, but continued. “I had… unfortunate circumstances at the time and I couldn’t finish.”

“Oh.” Ivan fumbled with the utensils wrapped in a napkin beside his plate. “Sorry I asked.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, what if I had graduated? Would I have ended up like Francis? He’s not even a chef here, just a waiter. That’s not what he had wanted, and what I would have wanted either, so it’s fine.”

Ivan nodded, but was not convinced that that was how Yao actually felt. “I suppose.”

Yao probably didn’t hear that though, because he was in one of his pensive states again, during which Ivan felt that to speak was to intrude or interrupt his thoughts. The awkward silence continued up until Francis brought them their food, thankfully without much more comment.

“So do you have a nice coat?” Yao asked suddenly, before either of them had started eating.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry, let me explain,” Yao said as he took his first bite, slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten the other important points connecting whatever he had his mind on to what he said. “I told Kiku about you just before I left, and I’m sure he’ll want to have you over for dinner soon. So I was wondering if you had a nice jacket to wear for that. My brother can be very shallow sometimes.”

“Oh.” Ivan had heard so much about Kiku, so much so that he had completely forgotten that he was going to have to meet him some day. “Oh. I suppose I do have one.”

“I’ll have to see it before he does, just to make sure.”

 Ivan nodded as Yao began to eat his lunch.

As they ate their food, Yao turned the conversation back to the usual topics.

After they finished, they walked to the library.

Ivan knew that he was eight inches or so taller than Yao, so there should be no way that their hands nudged as often as they did on that short walk.

Ivan followed Yao to the cookbook area and waited as Yao scanned the shelf for whatever books he was going to read. As Yao selected each book, he hand it to Ivan to hold. By the time he nodded, signaling that he had all he needed, Ivan had his arms completely full of books.

Yao, as usual, was entirely buried in his books for the next two hours. He took down notes and flipped pages frequently, and Ivan, also as per usual for their recent visits together, sat idly by his side, watching Yao sneakily from the corner of his eye.

At the end of two hours they both had to go, and they bade each other farewell. As usual, Ivan was awkward about this and they went back and forth saying ‘bye’ for about thirty seconds.

Later, after Ivan had gone to work and finished for the night and he was leaning up against the bar, listening to Arthur and Alfred’s bickering, Tino seemed to just remember his previous obsession with getting Yao and Ivan together. He’d been silent on the matter since his return from Minneapolis, and Ivan had thought that that would be the end of the Nordics’ nosing in his business.

He was wrong.

“Hey, so Ivan, how are you and Yao doing? Did you manage to figure out your first date? I hope you did—how long’s it been? Two, three weeks?”

Ivan sighed internally before answering. “Yeah, I think we are good. And yes, I figured out the first date, thank you,” he finished deadpan.

“You’ll have to tell me about it later, yeah? It looks like Antonio has something to announce.”

Ivan turned toward the stage, where Antonio and Lovino were standing. Antonio cleared his voice and the chatter in the bar area died down.

“Hello! I have something to say so be quiet, por favor!” Lovino rolled his eyes at Antonio’s unnecessary use of Spanish. “By ‘be quiet’ I mean you, Alfred,” Antonio continued, not breaking his sweet smile.

“What! I’m not loud!” Alfred exclaimed (loudly), before laughing his loudest, douchiest laugh. Ivan could practically _feel_ the long suffering sighs go through the group of them.

“Now, as you all know, it is the Christmas season, which means…” Antonio trailed off for a moment, probably for the effect of anticipation, as his smile grew. The pause was just long enough for Sadiq’s preemptive groans to be audible before he continued, “Christmas Eve party! It will be, well, obviously, on Christmas Eve, here at Circe’s. We will have a White Elephant gift exchange and everyone can bring a plus one. Also, Arthur, as usual, all of your brothers are banned, sorry.”

Arthur nodded understandingly.

“Great! Alright. Good night everyone! See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehh   
> by the way my tumblr is singingasongofanchormen.tumblr.com please and thank


	20. Compromising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And Tino and Berwald… I think Tino thinks Berwald’s going to pop the question.”
> 
> “Pop… a question? How do you pop a question? Like a bubble?” Ivan did not recognize this phrase.

Tino texted him the next day to invite him to the gym. Ivan supposed he should go along and wear the clothes Tino had bought him so long ago for his birthday. He brought the bag with him.

When he arrived, Feliciano pointed out the locker room to his left and gave him a key to a locker.

Ivan changed and went out to the gym, keeping his scarf around his neck. He was slightly uncomfortable with such thin and light clothes, especially seeing how cold it was outside.

Matthias, Tino, Lukas, Berwald, and Emil were already there. Berwald and Tino were chatting amongst themselves  quietly to one side, and the other three were silent. Ivan came closer and noticed that while Matthew worked on calf exercises on their usual machines, Lukas was perched behind him on the bench and staring directly into his younger brother’s eyes. Emil was sat across from him, trying to not make eye contact.

“Hey Ivan!” Matthias greeted, obviously eager to have a distraction from the awkward exchange behind him. For once, Tino wasn’t the first one to greet Ivan. It didn’t even look like Tino had noticed him yet, too engrossed with Berwald and whatever they were discussing. Fortunately also, Matthias didn’t seem fazed by Ivan’s scarf. “Are you actually going to work out today?”

Ivan nodded.

“Do you know how to use these machines?”

Ivan shook his head.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Matthias stood and showed Ivan how to use the different parts of the machine; how to use the leg weights, arm weights, and how to adjust the amount of weight put onto them.

Matthias adjusted the weight for Ivan, and set it up for arm exercises.

Ivan thanked him and sat down. He put his hands where Matthias had shown him to and tried to push it. When it gave so easily, Ivan turned to Matthias and asked, “How did you say I add weight, again?”

“What?” Matthias blanched. “I set your weight to the same as mine! You shouldn’t need more weight.”

“It’s too light.”

“What!”

Lukas laughed under his breath, amused by Matthias’ dismay.

“Fine, here,” Matthias said, pushing a button or something, and a clicking signified the added weights.

Ivan tried it again and it was better. He could take much heavier but he figured it would seem heavier after he did it a while.

Matthias returned to his own machine, with Lukas and Emil still in an awkward staring contest (now Emil was trying to glare back).

Aside from Tino and Berwald’s quiet conversing and the clanking of machinery, it was silent.

“Ah, you know, we told Arthur we’d take care of Peter tonight, and I need to go clean up the apartment before that! Hi Ivan! Bye guys,” Tino waved, though awkwardly. “See you all around.”

Tino and Berwald took their leave then.

“I have study group, too, so we’d better get going, brother,” Emil said.

“Oh yeah? Study group with _who_?” Lukas sneered. “ _Leon?_ ”

“Maybe. What if it is with Leon? What are going to do? _Not allow me to study?_ ”

“Maybe I won’t.”

Emil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I still need to go.”

Lukas gave a short sigh and stood.

“Alright. Bye.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, okay?” Matthias called after them as they walked toward the front. Lukas waved in acknowledgement, not turning around.

As soon as they were gone, Ivan felt somewhat awkward with the silence, so he asked, “What is going on there?”

“’There?’ As in… Tino and Berwald or Lukas and Emil?”

“Uh, I was thinking Emil and Lukas. There’s something with Tino and Berwald, too?”

“Well, as it turns out, Lukas was the only one in the entire word that didn’t realize that Leon and Emil had a thing. I thought it was _obvious_ , so I never said anything. But, as it happened, Leon was over for ‘study group’, and poor Lukas sorta walked in on… something.”

Ivan paused a moment, before saying, “Oh.”

“And Tino and Berwald… I _think_ Tino thinks Berwald’s going to pop the question.”

“Pop… a question? How do you pop a question? Like a bubble?” Ivan did not recognize this phrase.

Matthias gave him a look before saying, “No, no, _the_ question. The big one.”

“Oh. The _big_ question,” Ivan repeated, sarcastically making it clear that he still had no idea what Matthias meant.

“Like, the _question_ , you know? About… the thing.” Matthias was floundering. “Getting married? The ‘will you marry me’ one. That question.”

Ivan _was_ taken aback by that. “Those two? Are gonna? They’re going to get married?”

“That’s what Tino thinks. I don’t think he’s too far off base, either.”

“What makes Tino think that?”

“Alma’s been pressuring Ber to. That’s one thing I know for sure.”

\--

Ivan stayed to work out, switching his exercises every so often, for the next two hours. Sadiq and Ludwig, along with a couple other Ivan didn’t recognize, came and went in that time, but he and Matthias stayed.

“I should probably go now,” Ivan said as it neared three.

“Yeah, me too,” Matthias agreed.

They cleaned up and changed in the locker room quickly.

After they had exited the gym, they walked to the busses and went their own way from there.

Ivan checked his phone after he had seated himself on the bus. He had one unread message from Yao.

_So, Kiku has ‘cordially’ invited you to lunch this Wednesday. Will you be able to come? I hope you will. We’ll also have to see about that coat._

\--

Gupta Muhammad Hassan lived an ordinary life in Seattle. He worked at a shitty little hole-in-wall coffee shop downtown.

It really was a hole in the wall, too. It had one table with two chairs and the one room of it could hold maybe ten people tops.

It was a dreary job, with tired, baggy-eyed people coming to get their fix of caffeine for cheap.

The one sure-fire way Gupta knew how to tell when it was Christmas season (though he really didn’t care; he was Muslim and didn’t celebrate Christmas, anyway) was the horrible sweaters his customers started wearing, the increase in gift card sales, and the appearance of his two high school friends, Sadiq and Herakles.

Sadiq would greet him amiably, thumping him over the back, even over the counter that separated them, and Herakles would hand him a slip of paper without comment.

Gupta didn’t need to look at it to know that it was an invitation to Herakles’ church’s Christmas service. Gupta sighed and put it aside.

“You know, Herakles, I’m flattered that you always think of me when it comes to Christmas, and it’s nice that you want to invite me and everything, but, as I say every year, I am Muslim. I was Muslim last year, and the year before that, and I will probably be Muslim next year, too. And that means, as I have explained, that I don’t celebrate Christmas.” Gupta had this speech down pat after all the years of having to recite it to his Greek friend. Herakles, for all his effort, just shrugged, and ordered his normal coffee. “Aren’t you Muslim, too, Sadiq?”

Sadiq shrugged also, “Sometimes you have to be a teensy bit compromising, yeah?”

Gupta raised an eyebrow. Sadiq and Herakles’ relationship, last time he checked, was anything _but_ compromising. Last time they had a particularly bad off-period, Sadiq had come in here to complain about whatever it was they had been arguing about. However, Herakles had had a similar idea, and when Sadiq saw Herakles coming toward the shop, he had jumped into the one bathroom the shop had, and locked himself in there the entirety of the time that Herakles was there visiting Gupta.

He was in there for two hours. Because he didn’t want to face Herakles.

Compromising.

Okay.

“Okay, whatever. Are you going to order a coffee or?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll have a drip. I don’t need no fancy girly flavors like Herakles.”

Herakles gave Sadiq a look and Gupta could already see the regret at that comment.


	21. Missed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yao led him through the short hall to the main living room area. Mei and Kiku—who turned out to be a Japanese man in his mid-twenties—were sat on the couch. Mei was texting someone, while Kiku played on his Nintendo. 
> 
> “This is Ivan. Ivan, Kiku and Mei; Kiku and Mei, Ivan.” The two looked up at this, and Kiku looked like he was going to say something before Yao continued. “We are going to the kitchen, good bye.”

Ivan had sent Yao a picture of his jacket and a nice turtle neck, and Yao had approved, but Ivan still fidgeted with the neck of the shirt as he rode the bus to Chinatown.

Ivan knew the street Yao lived on, but he had not ever seen exactly where Yao lived. Yao texted him the address and when Ivan got off the bus he was able to find it quite easily (thankfully).

He checked the time to make sure he was on time, and then knocked solidly on the door. He heard shuffling momentarily before the door was pulled open.

“Hello Ivan! Come inside and take your shoes off!” Yao greeted him, letting him through the door before closing and locking it behind him. Ivan was momentarily confused about being asked to take off his shoes, but he saw all the other shoes on the mat by the door, so he complied.

“Okay, so I’m cooking and my siblings are in the living room. I’ll introduce you to them and then you can sit in the kitchen with me, okay?”

Ivan just nodded.

Yao led him through the short hall to the main living room area. Mei and Kiku—who turned out to be a Japanese man in his mid-twenties—were sat on the couch. Mei was texting someone, while Kiku played on his Nintendo. 

“This is Ivan. Ivan, Kiku and Mei; Kiku and Mei, Ivan.” The two looked up at this, and Kiku looked like he was going to say something before Yao continued. “We are going to the kitchen, good bye.” And Yao dragged Ivan off to the small kitchenette where a large bowl of soup stood on the stove, bubbling softly. There was also a tray of what looked like dumplings to Ivan. The oven beeped, telling Yao that it was preheated.

Yao went about stirring the soup and doing something with the uncooked dumplings before he put them in the oven, and when he did, Ivan saw something on another rack that looked like a duck. Yao wiped his hands on a towel.

“Mei said that she’d take over for me once I got everything started. Let me show you around the place!”

Yao led him back to the living room and Ivan followed him through the other rooms, showing him the bathroom and dining room and even pointing out the laundry room.

They went down a hall with just two rooms; more like a corner off of the living room, really; and Yao started, “And this is my—.”

“Yao! No boys in your room!” Mei called from the living room teasingly. “Also, I don’t know what to do with the duck.”

Yao let out a long suffering sigh before Ivan followed him back to the kitchen.

Ivan stayed in the doorway as the two went about the dish. Yao pulled it out of the oven and checked the temperature with an authority Ivan had not seen before.

Yao did not leave the kitchen until all the dishes were finished, which was quite some time, but Ivan enjoyed watching as he ordered his sister about, dressing the different dishes in such a comfortable way Ivan would’ve guessed he was a professional, if he didn’t know better.

“Will you take this duck to the dining room, Ivan? Mei’s bringing out the dumplings, so go with her.”

Ivan took the tray offered to him and followed the small woman to the dining table.

She set her tray down and pointed to where Ivan should put his with a smile. “I’m going to get utensils and such, so you can go ahead and sit down.”

He did, and she left. It was a little awkward being by himself, but he knew they would be right along, so he just drummed his fingers on the table idly.

The table was a large square on, with the food all in the center. Yao came out a second or so later with a large bowl of soup. Mei set out and plates and bowls and utensils.

Yao sat to Ivan’s left, nearest the door, and Mei to his right. Kiku joined them a moment later and sat opposite Ivan wordlessly and without a glance toward anyone. He slid his Nintendo into his pocket, and, as he moved to dish up some food for himself and noticed no one else was, he looked around for the first time. He looked at Ivan and he seemed to nod his head like ‘oh’.

“Well, uh, it all looks good, Yao,” he said, scooting his chair in further as if to cover up his short blunder. “And thank you for coming and joining us, Ivan.”

Ivan momentarily froze at being addressed directly. He nodded nervously. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved that Kiku and Mei were acting so normal about having lunch with him or if he should be nervous; he noticed Yao side eyeing him with a slight frown and decided he should definitely be nervous.

“Well,” Kiku began when he realized neither Yao nor Mei were going to start anything, “let’s start passing the food around.” Yao nodded and grabbed the dumplings. Ivan noticed that while Mei had sat out chopsticks for the three of them, she had set out a fork and spoon for Ivan. Yao snatched two of the dumplings for himself, and Ivan subconsciously marveled at his skill with the chopsticks (though of course he would be able to use chopsticks so easily, he was raised using them). Yao passed the plate to Ivan who stabbed one with his fork and passed it on to Mei (who smiled condescendingly at his fork use).

The rest of the food was passed around without a word beyond ‘thank you’ or ‘oops’, et cetera, before Kiku spoke again.

“So, Ivan,” he had started, casually placing the chopsticks down on his plate, “How old are you?”

Ivan saw Yao and Mei glance at each other over the table as Ivan replied, “Auh… I am twenty two.” He had meant to just state it, but the glances Yao cast at him as he answered made him nervous and it ended up coming out almost like a question. Wasn’t it weird how Kiku was asking such a strange question?

Kiku hummed, taking a bite from his slice of duck. For a moment, it seemed, Kiku was focusing on eating again. Yao made eye contact with Ivan and smiled encouragingly. Yao seemed very nervous to Ivan, which was strange.

Kiku took a bite or two more before continuing, “You have an accent; where are you from?”

Kiku was making stern, almost disdainful eye contact with Ivan across the table, waiting. “Um… St. Petersburg.” Kiku continued to wait. “Russia?”

“I see.” Kiku turned back to his food, and there was silence again.

Ivan awkwardly followed suit by taking a bite of a dumpling. He was taken aback by how good they were, so Ivan turned to Yao and said in a soft voice, “This is very good, Yao.”

Yao smiled and thanked him and Ivan couldn’t help but smile back. Yao’s smiles were always bright and infectious, but it didn’t seem to affect the other two. Rather, Ivan thought he saw Kiku glaring ta him out of the corner of his eye.

Yao turned back to his soup, and Ivan took another bite of the dumpling.

_This is so awkward._

It was like Kiku could hear his thoughts, because he then asked, “So Ivan, where do you work?”

_Uh… what exactly can I say to that? ‘Oh, yeah, I work at a gay night club; Circe’s Island, you might’ve heard of it?’_

“Well… I’m sort of a security guard at a club.”

Kiku raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”

_Is that not a good answer? Did I say something wrong?_

Ivan was nervous now; he couldn’t totally said some English phrase wrong without noticing it. He had expected an actual conversation to start, knowing how Yao talked when the two went to lunch or whatnot, and he had expected Mei—who seemed friendly and very much like Yao—to at least say _something_. He had not expected a string of questions like this.

“So is that how you two met? The ‘club’?” Kiku asked; he sounded suspicious and was sending Yao accusing glances.

“What?” Yao exclaimed. “You know that’s not—“

Kiku sighed, loud enough to cut Yao off, and said, “Yes, I know. It was a joke.”

Yao glared lightly, before frowning in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Knowing you, Yao, I’m going to assume you met at the library.”

Yao looked somewhat put out by that and said, “It’s really that easy to figure it all out?” with a cute little frown.

“Yeah,” Mei chimed in.

“You two are rude,” Yao pouted.

Kiku laughed under his breath, turning back to Ivan. “Anyway, Ivan, tell me about… St. Petersburg? When did you come here?”

“Well, uh…” Even with the light interlude that Kiku’s teasing of Yao had provided, Ivan was still not expecting an interview, but at least he was being ask about something he know about. “It is cold in the winter, and very hot in the summer. I lived in rural St. Petersburg. My village had about three hundred people in it?”

Kiku nodded slowly. He was still waiting for the second question to be answered, though, so Ivan continued shortly,

“I moved here about six months ago.”

“Ah, I see. Were you taught English in high school, then?”

The questions were easily come one after another now, and Ivan didn’t get a chance to continue eating under the onslaught. Kiku had finished all of his food, and didn’t care to give Ivan a chance to avoid any questions.

“Uh, sort of. That’s where I had started to learn, but I had to drop out so my younger sister taught me more.”

Ivan could see Yao cringe slightly at this.

“Oh,” Kiku said simply. Kiku scrutinized Ivan as he took a sip from his water.

Ivan tried to make eye contact with Yao, who was looking at his hands. Should Ivan not have said that about his schooling? He supposed dropping out was frowned upon more so in the States. For Ivan’s small community back home, however, actually finishing school was a rare feat.

“So, a sister? How old is she?” Kiku continued.

“Eighteen. She’s about to graduate this spring.”

“And who’s raising her?”

Ivan was confused by this question. It seemed rather random. “My older sister?”

Kiku nodded.

Ivan did not think this lunch was going very well. What if Kiku decided he didn’t like Ivan? Would not be allowed to see him? Why did it seem like Kiku had so much control over Yao?

For now, it seemed that Kiku had finished his questions, and the four of them finished their food silently (Kiku took another dumpling). Ivan was so accustomed to Yao speaking non-stop, so as they sat there silently, the lack of his chatter was the most unsettling thing Ivan experienced (that and Kiku kept glancing at him with these pensive look on his face that made Ivan very uncomfortable).

They finished eating silently, and Kiku took all the dishes to the kitchen. Mei excused herself to go get tea.

“I was honestly expecting him to be a lot worse.”

“Yeah? I felt like I was being interrogated for a crime.”

Yao laughed, and Mei came back with a teapot and four tea cups. She set them down and poured some for each of them. Kiku came back and sat down shortly as well.

Ivan followed suit as the others picked up their cups and waited for them to cool. He studied how Yao held his cup so he didn’t look completely clueless and uncultured.

When he could drink it, Ivan found it to be a very strong green tea, something he was unused to. When he was home and Yekaterina bought tea, it was a cheap black tea. That’s all the tea he really had a taste for, now.

But Ivan forced himself to grin and bear it; if he could pretend to like syrupy coffees for Yao, he could handle a bit of tea.

When the cups were empty and Mei was starting to pour a second cup, Kiku turned to Yao and said, “Don’t we have mocha in the fridge? Could you go get it?”

Yao nodded cautiously, glancing at Ivan before going out of the room. Mei looked between Kiku and Ivan as Kiku took another long drink of tea, putting the cup down.

“So it seems my brother really likes you.”

_Shit this is it. Kiku’s going to tell me I can’t see Yao anymore._

“It also seems you’re well enough off,” Kiku continued, weighing it in his head. “You seem respectable and respectful enough. So I suppose that, as long as you don’t turn out to be an idiot, I think your relationship with Yao is fine.” Ivan was relieved, if not shocked, at Kiku’s easy acceptance. No death threats, no prolonged moments of anticipation/dread. Kiku leaned in a little then, and said in a low voice, “But if you hurt him in any way, I will end you.”

Ivan didn’t have time to react before Yao re-entered the room, carrying a tray of ball-like deserts. “Look, I made them look like pandas!”

They were small white balls with black markings that did indeed resemble panda bears. Of course they did, if Yao made them.

“They’re really good, try them.” Yao plopped one onto Ivan’s plate without question or comment.

Yao placed at least one on everyone’s plate. Yao must have overheard Kiku’s conversation at Ivan, because he set what looked like four or five on his brother’s plate happily.

They had a different texture than Ivan expected, but were not bad.

When they had finished, Kiku checked his watch and said he had to go. He bowed his head to the three still seated and took his leave.

“Well, it sounded like you could’ve briefed Ivan on what to say a bit better, but Kiku actually sort of approved; or, well, at least he didn’t disapprove.”

Yao nodded. “He asked more question than I had expected. I thought it was rude to ask about your English and your little sister, though,” Yao said, turning to Ivan.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Ivan shrugged. “Alfred gave me a much harder time when I first started working with them.”

“Alfred? Arthur’s boyfriend? Yeah, he’s a douche.”

“Yeah.”

“So Kiku kind of was, also.”

Ivan could see that Yao had it set in his mind on how rude Kiku had been, so he just agreed and nodded.

“So, I also have a thing to do with Lien now, so uh…” Mei said as she stood to leave.

“Bye! Have fun with Lien!”

“You have fun too!—but not too much fun,” she added the last part with a faux-stern glare, pointing her finger at them playfully.

“Oh, get out! Leave; I’m so done with you!” Yao shooed her.

She rolled her eyes and walk out, and they heard the door close a moment later.

And it dawned on Ivan that they were alone.

In Yao’s home.

And Yao was leaning closer.

What is happening?

Ivan was unable to react; he had not anticipated this at all.

Yao reached over and grabbed one of Ivan’s hands in both of his. “I’m glad Kiku doesn’t dislike you. Not that him disapproving would really matter.”

Yao was running his fingertips over the palm of Ivan’s hand, and Ivan had a tight feeling in his chest. They’d held hands before, as they walked to Symposium from the library, but for some reason that Ivan couldn’t place, this felt different.

“Well, uh…” Ivan started. Yao kept stroking his hand, distracting Ivan from his train of thought. Yao seemed distracted by something too, and when he finally snapped out of it Ivan could feel the blush on his own face. Yao had really soft hands…

“Oh, well, I need to start baking for Mei’s work’s bake sale tomorrow. You should come! I’m making lemon bars and brownies.”

“I will see, I suppose…” Ivan was watching Yao’s hands, which were still running over his own. His hand burned slightly everywhere Yao touched him.

“I’ll text you the address,” Yao said as Ivan stood.

They went toward the front door, where Ivan put his coat and scarf on. There was an awkward tension between them and Ivan didn’t understand why. Had Ivan said anything? He couldn’t remember. Was Yao expecting something?

Maybe Arthur had told Yao about the Christmas party already, and Yao was waiting for Ivan to invite him? Ivan had been planning to ask him.

That must be it.

“Yao?” he started, waiting for Yao’s nod of acknowledgment, “My work is having a Christmas Eve Party,” he said, starting to button up his coat. “I was wondering if you would be my…? What did he call it? ‘Plus one’?”

Yao smiled and pulled Ivan’s stumbling fingers away from where they were fumbling with the buttons. He buttoned Ivan’s coat and grabbed his scarf from the hook, throwing it around Ivan’s neck and fixing it up. “I don’t technically celebrate Christmas, being Taoist and all, but I would love to.”

Ivan smiled down at him. “Great! I’ll give you more information as I get it, of course.”

“Yeah, of course.”

They stood in silence for a moment; the tension was still there. Ivan, apparently, didn’t read situations very well.

“Well, uh..” Ivan said, turning toward the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yao said, pulling the door open for him, “it was nice having lunch.” Ivan went out the door and stood just outside.

“Okay…” Ivan said, as a leeway to farewell.

“Okay…” Yao repeated. The tension remaining in the air between them suggested anticipation; of what, Ivan had no idea.

“I guess I’ll get going—“ Ivan was cut off when Yao took hold of the ends of Ivan’s scarf and pulled.

Ivan was forced to bend down, and Yao planted a kiss on his cheek.

Ivan’s eyes were wide and his cheeks bright red when he was allowed to stand up straight. He fixed his scarf timidly.

“Uh, well, I’ll text you,” Ivan said, his voice soft and small.

“Yeah, bye,” Yao said, smiling a big, fond smile at the stumbling Russian.

He closed the door carefully. He walked back to the living room, still smiling.

He sat down on the couch, and his smile started to slip off his face. He put his head in his hands and groaned.

“I can’t believe I missed.”


	22. Churros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not again, man,” Ivan heard Antonio say under his breath. Ivan was embarrassed by the spectacle Antonio was creating; and that was before Antonio was grabbing Ivan’s arm and pulling him into a staggered run behind him, away from the guard.
> 
>  
> 
> Ivan had not known that the malls had holding cells.

A few days later, Ivan was on Facebook. He had a friend request—from Natalya Braginskya. Ivan did not know Natalya had a Facebook. He wasn’t sure if he should answer it just yet.

One message and one other notification waited for him. He clicked the notification first—it was from Yao: a relationship request. Ivan smiled; he had heard Matthias say something about ‘Facebook official’ and how important that was. Ivan didn’t understand how something like a relationship on Facebook could be so monumental, but he pressed ‘accept’ anyway. His profile now read ‘in relationship with Yao Wang’ and wow did that feel good.

A new message popped up now—the unread one from Tino. It read, “Hey, are you going to get Yao a Christmas present? That would be good! Especially if you’re bring him to the Christmas party!’

Tino was not online at the time, so Ivan didn’t respond, but he did think that was a good point. And Ivan didn’t really have anything going on that day, so maybe he’d go to the mall later. But what would Yao even like as a gift? What would he want for Christmas? Ivan supposed that, if he looked around the mall long enough, he’d find _something_. Even if Yao didn’t technically celebrate or anything, Ivan though he’d appreciate a gift.

 

And that is why, four hours later, Ivan was still at the mall. He had no idea what to get Yao.

He could buy him a cookbook, but knowing Yao he would probably just go through the book once, copy down recipes he liked, and be done with it.

Ivan also didn’t know what size of clothes to buy him even if he thought that was a good gift idea.

He was about to give up, just walking back through Macy’s toward the exit. When a familiar voice called out to him from behind.

“Ivan! Hey, mi amigo, back here!”

Ivan, surprised, turned around to find Antonio waving and smiling amiably.

“Wow, what a coincidence, man! Say, what are you doing here all alone? Christmas shopping, no?” Ivan nodded. “Ah, me too. I have to get Lovino a very good present this year; last year he bought me a sword; how cool, huh? Who are you shopping for?”

“Um…” Ivan didn’t quite know what to say. Antonio was his boss (technically this was true, Antonio was the owner and manager of the club, but Lovino just sort of… owned the place unofficially and no one really address the fact), and Ivan didn’t talk to him very much, so he wasn’t sure what the normal answer to this would be.

“Oh, don’t you have a boyfriend? I thought I heard that somewhere. But you don’t have anything so far it seems? Are you having trouble?” Antonio was smiling kindly, almost condescendingly (but mostly kindly).

“Well,” Ivan frowned, trying not to blush, “Yeah.”

“Ah, mi amigo! Let me help you! I am good at this.” And with that Antonio grabbed his arm and started dragging him store to store throughout the mall.

They went to clothes stores, book stores, ‘as-seen-on-TV’ stores, a Daiso, and just about every other kind of store imaginable.

Antonio would point at this or that and Ivan, uncomfortable with the situation, would shake his head, and Antonio would bring him to the next store.

As they returned to the Macy’s in utter defeat, Antonio expressed his dismay at how their shopping had gone. “My, my, mi amigo, and I thought _Lovino_ was hard to shop for.”

He walked so that he was facing Ivan, talking with his hands extensively and not paying attention to where he was going. That should’ve been a red flag to Ivan. It wasn’t, of course, until Antonio tripped over a large Christmas display, knocking over toys and chocolates and a mannequin dressed as Santa.

“Ah, chucha,” Antonio muttered.

There were a lot of people around, and Ivan saw a mall security guard coming toward them.

Antonio leapt to his feet.

“Sir? Are you okay? Are you drunk?” the guard was asking, as soon as he was close enough to.

“Not again, man,” Ivan heard Antonio say under his breath. Ivan was embarrassed by the spectacle Antonio was creating; and that was _before_ Antonio was grabbing Ivan’s arm and pulling him into a staggered run behind him, away from the guard.

 

Ivan had not known that the malls had holding cells.

He and Antonio had been caught pretty quickly, and put in the ‘mall jail’ because they thought Antonio was drunk and didn’t want him causing problems. Hey had him call someone to pick them up, so naturally he called Lovino.

Lovino showed up a half hour later, seeming a lot less angry than Ivan had expected. He was more disappointed, Ivan thought. Disappointed and mildly irritated.

“You know these men, right?” the mall officer in charge of the mall jail asked.

Lovino sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’ll be taking them home?”

Lovino hesitated to answer that. “Could I actually just have the Russian one for now? I’ll come back for the Mexican.”

Ivan heard Antonio mutter something about being _Spanish_ , not _Mexican_ , and had to bite back a laugh. It was funny how that was what he found problem with in Lovino’s statement.

“I just think this is a good time to teach him a lesson, you see.”

The officer considered this. She glanced back at the two of them, sitting pathetically on the bench behind the plastic bars.

“I suppose you could, if you picked came back for him before an hour or so.”

Lovino nodded. The officer got up and released the confused Ivan.

“Come on, Ivan, let’s go get some churros.”

“What! You’re bring me back some, sí? Don’t be so cruel, Lovi! Please?”

Lovino ignored Antonio’s protests, rolling his eyes and making his way toward the food court.

Lovino bought four churros, giving two to Ivan. Ivan doubted Lovino did that out of generosity; rather he suspected it was the Italian’s best attempt to make Antonio feel the worst he could.

They went back to where Antonio was being held, and Lovino quietly encouraged Ivan to eat his churro where Antonio could see.

“I cannot believe you actually went and got churros without me!”

Ivan felt somewhat cruel eating his churro, so he just held it awkwardly.

Lovino signed for Antonio’s release and the three of them walked out of the mall together.

“You idiot bastard, I’m tired of having to come get you out of these shit fests you cause. And I’m missing my show,” Lovino scolded Antonio as soon as they were out the door. Antonio hung his head. “Apologize to Ivan, as I imagine it’s your fault he was stuck up in there with you.”

“Sorry, Ivan,” he mumbled; he was acting like a small child being scolded for breaking his mom’s vase.

“Ah, it’s fine.”

“Do you need a ride home? It’s getting dark,” Lovino asked.

 _Lovino’s… being nice?_ Ivan scrutinized him carefully before responding.

“That would be nice of you, if it is not too much trouble.” Ivan had not planned to stay long enough to miss the sunset, even if it was winter. The buses would probably not be a very fun ride home tonight.

In the car on the way to Ivan’s apartment, Antonio continued to talk to Ivan about gift ideas.

“You know, you don’t know how to make anything, do you? Berwald always makes furniture or some other woodcarving type things for Tino. I think it’s really cute.”

“Ah, I don’t know anything like that. I only know how to fix up machinery and knit.”

“Oh! You could knit something for him! Handmade gifts are the best. And so cute!”

“Really?” Ivan wasn’t so sure how cool it would be, as a grown Russian man, to give his boyfriend a knit scarf.

“Definitely! Yeah! Right Lovi?”

Lovino hummed, not necessarily in agreement, but Antonio ignored that and looked excitedly back at Ivan, nodding encouragingly.

Ivan nodded thoughtfully. Was that really even a good idea? (Should Ivan really take advice from his boss, who just got both of them landed in mall jail for running from mall security?)

When Ivan and Antonio’s conversation seemed to fade out, Lovino started talking to Antonio in some other language. Ivan couldn’t tell if it was Spanish or Italian; all Ivan knew was that, while the actual language and words sounded much smoother and nicer than Russian, it still sounded scary with Lovino speaking it. Ivan figured he was probably lecturing Antonio on shopping mall etiquette. It sounded like it wasn’t a new conversation, either.

They dropped Ivan off, and he went directly to his computer to search for ideas on what to make for Yao.

His sister always knitted him an Natalya Christmas sweaters and he hated wearing them, so he figured that would probably be a bad idea. If Ivan made gloves, he would have no references for how big to make them, so they’d almost certainly be too big for Yao to wear.

Ivan sighed and logged onto Facebook, thinking he might ask Arthur for advice on what Yao might like.

He logged in and checked his notifications—they were all from some discussion between Tino and Sadiq that Ivan didn’t really want to read. His friend request button reminded him of the request he had from Natalya. He decided he may as well accept it, and then he went to check if Arthur was online.

He wasn’t.

Natalya, however was, and she messaged him almost immediately.

_Hello big brother!_

‘Hello Natalya. I did not know you had a facebook.’

_I just got it a few days ago._

_How are you?_

‘I’m fine.’

Natalya did not usually use the phrase ‘how are you’ (usually opting for something shorter and more informal, like ‘what’s up’ or ‘how’s it going’) unless something was going on, so Ivan answered the question in the shortest manner possible, suspicious of what she thought was going on.

_Oh? Nothing going on?_

‘Uh, no. How about you?

_Oh, nothing really. Just working on college applications._

‘That is exciting, no?’

_I guess it is. Nothing exciting on your end, though? No new American experiences you are dying to share with little sister?_

‘I guess I’ve been trying some new food lately, if that’s what you mean? I think it was called, what? Fuh? Something like that. I also had some, um, Dim Some? They were good.’

_Oh yeah? With—Yao? Who’s Yao?_

Oh, shit. Ivan had completely forgotten that his relationship status was shown on his profile now. It was there for anyone; his friends, family, and _Natalya_ , all to see.


	23. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had not noticed that Antonio had returned from dealing with Alfred, and was back to running around with the mistletoe, until it was staring Ivan right in the eye. Antonio had come upon them when they were unaware and held it above them.
> 
> Ivan froze, staring at it with wide eyes, and looked pleadingly at Antonio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello here is the next chapter. When things are between the slashes (/ /) it means they are in a different language- in this chapter it's French.
> 
> Enjoy!

'Please do not tell Yekaterina.'

This was not how Ivan wanted his sister to find out about Yao. This isn't how he wanted her to find out about the whole 'gay' thing. He should've been more careful.

Nataly took a moment to respond to Ivan—and that may have been the longest moment Ivan had experienced.

_I wouldn't tell Yekaterina if you didn't want me to._

_But that does mean he's your… you know…_

Ivan sighed. He really does need to give Natalya more credit than he had. Of course she wouldn't tell anyone against his will. Why would he assume that she'd do something so malicious?

'Yeah. He's my boyfriend. I suppose that makes me uh…'

 _Yeah_.

_Does your computer have a webcam? I feel like we shouldn't be having this conversation over chat._

'I think it does.'

_I'm going to video call you._

A video request came up and Ivan accepted it immediately.

The image of Natalya was slow and dark, but Ivan could easily make out her long dark hair and pale face.

"Hello, big brother."

"Privet! Uh, if you don't mind me asking, shouldn't you go somewhere more private if we're going to discuss… this?"

Natalya was seated on the couch in the room Ivan nostalgically recognized as the living room in their small house back home.

"Ivan, Yekaterina doesn't understand English," Natalya said, her eyebrow raised in amusement. "Anyway, speaking of her, are you planning to tell her eventually?" she asked, as if it was given that Ivan would know exactly what she was talking about (sure, Ivan _did_ , but that didn't make it any less irritating that she just _assumed_ ).

"Tell Yekaterina? About Yao?"

"Well, yeah. And… gay thing."

It was obvious that the two were uncomfortable actually _saying it_. Which made Ivan feel rather ridiculous—he worked at a gay club, almost all of his coworkers were gay (actually no, once Ivan thought about it, every single one of them was gay), and he'd been dating Yao for at least three weeks now. Why was it so uncomfortable to say it, then?

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it in the long run."

"Really? How long have you been dating?"

"Dating?"

"Yao," Natalya said, rolling her eyes impatiently.

"Uh? Two or three weeks, I suppose."

"Two or three weeks?" she exclaimed, apparently outraged. "Were you going to tell me?"

"I hadn't…"

"Planned on it?" she cut him off. "Why not?"

"Well," Ivan was overwhelmed by Natalya's questions. When he was interrogated by Kiku he had been nervous, but he had been given time to respond. Natalya, however, demanded answered _now_ , and if you so much as stuttered as you answered her, she would tear you apart in a fashion much less subtle than Kiku.

As to her question, all Ivan could say was that he was _scared_. He had been scared as to what his sisters would do or say when they found out he was gay. Could he admit that to his little sister? His little sister who adored and idolized him? Could he tell her that her childhood _hero_ was _scared_?

"Well?" Natalya repeated impatiently.

Ivan looked down at his hands. He supposed he had to.

"I was afraid."

There was silence from Natalya, and Ivan peaked up at the screen hesitantly (which was ridiculous; it was a _screen_ , what was it going to do?).

Natalya was frowning slightly.

"You were afraid… that I wouldn't accept you? That Yekaterina and I wouldn't—what, love you anymore?"

Ivan nodded slowly, feeling foolish and ashamed and not wanting to look video-Natalya in the eye.

"Oh, Vanya, you really have to give us more credit than that. Kat and I love you…" she faded off, and Ivan thought he had heard her getting a little choked up. "We love you a lot, Ivan, and you think something like this would stop that? You're even more stupid than I thought, big brother."

Ivan saw Natalya wipe the corners of her eyes angrily.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Natalya sighed. "I'm not going to pressure you into talking to Kat, but when you do, _because you will_ , I guarantee you she'll accept it. I'd be surprised if she had any reaction at all aside from demanding to meet this Yao character."

Ivan laughed softly.

There were many more people at the party than either Ivan or Yao had expected.

When they first entered, they were instantly hailed over to the group of Nordics—Emily, obviously, was not there—and Tino scared Yao half to death with his enthusiastic greeting.

"Ah, hello Yao! It is a pleasure to finally officially be meeting you!" he had said, shaking Yao's hand roughly. Yao glanced at Ivan for an explanation. Yao had no idea who Tino was yet.

"Right; Yao, this is Tino, and Berwald and Matthias, and Lukas," he said, motioning to each in turn.

Tino continued to chat at Yao, Ivan noticed how much more 'himself' Tino seemed today. Berwald was at his side, resting a hand on the small of the Finn's back comfortably, and Ivan thought he even saw a small smile on the Swede's face. Yao was taken aback by the talkativeness of Tino's; Yao, who was so used to carrying every conversation himself.

Matthias leaned over to and whispered to Ivan, "Damn, man, you didn't say Yao was hot," with a wink, and Ivan forced himself to ward off the instinct to punch the other in the teeth.

But Matthias just laughed amiably and punched him on the arm, and Ivan smiled it off. Matthias thought he was a lot funnier than he actually was.

After the Nordics were distracted with other guests, Arthur found them, greeting Yao in a very friendly fashion and introducing Matthew to the two. "Matthew is Alfred's brother, visiting from Vancouver B.C."

"Hello Matthew! It must be tough being Alfred's little brother, huh?"

Matthew, who was a nervous and somewhat short blonde with messy hair and nervous hands, gave a small, hesitant smile at this, but nodded all the same.

Now introductions were out of the way, Arthur turned to greet Yao with a proper hug, which made Ivan's smile become tight-lipped and somewhat forced— _Come on, Braginski, what give you the right to be jealous over this?_ he chastised himself. _Arthur is Yao's best friend._

Arthur snatched two eggnogs for himself and Yao from a tray as a waitress walked by, making friendly small talk with Yao. Matthew and Ivan stood to the side awkwardly.

This was about the time that Those Three showed up.

"Oho, bonjour Arthur, you bastard. And what is this? Yao? So we meet again, mon ami! What a coincidence. And bonjour to you too, Ivan, again."

"Again? Where have you too been recently?" Gilbert asked suspiciously, looking between Ivan and Francis.

"Eh, hola amigos!" Antonio greeted them, coming slightly behind his two friends. "Say, Ivan, you wouldn't have told anyone about the uh… _mall incident_ , have you? No? I was thinking it would be nice if you could not tell anyone, that would be great," Antonio 'whispered'.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the whole scene.

"What, is Toni getting thrown in mall jail again? Without me? Rude," Gilbert huffed.

"Eh, hello, who is this?" Francis asked, seeming to notice Matthew for the first time, making a face that Ivan assumed was supposed to be flirtatious.

"Quit it with that face, you old frog. This is _Matthew_ , _Alfred's_ brother."

"Alfred's brother? Non, there is no resemblance between _that_ ," Francis made a disgusted expression at the thought of Alfred, "and _this_." Francis took Matthew's hand, bowed down and kiss it.

Everyone rolled their eyes and Matthew blushed, stammering.

Yao tilted his head and frowned at the display, and turned his attention back to his conversation with Arthur, trying to block out Francis and his friends.

"I guess some people never change," he said to Arthur, rolling his eyes again.

"Wait until Francis tries to impress Matthew by dropping a few words in French, and finds that Matthew is, in fact, fluent in French. He's going to be horrified." The two laughed.

"Ah, excuse, but Sadiq said he'd introduce me to his boyfriend finally, and I just saw them come in the door. I'll talk to you later!" Arthur excused himself, leaving Matthew with Francis, the two of whom seemed to be hitting it off well.

Ivan couldn't say he was quite 'unhappy' about Arthur leaving them (quite the opposite, honestly).

Ivan noticed that Lovino's brother, Feliciano, and his grandfather were both in attendance, milling around the rest of the crowd. The German—Ludwig?—was also there, but Ivan had no idea why he would be.

Well, he _had_ had no idea, that is, until Antonio, who was running around armed with a small bit of mistletoe and holding it above unsuspecting couples, came over to him and held the mistletoe over him and Feliciano with a smirk. Ludwig turned an alarming shade of red, but the Italian smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. Oh.

When Ivan's attention returned to Yao, the man was looking up at him with a peculiar expression. "Are you alright, Ivan? You seem quiet."

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay. Well, was there anyone else you were going to introduce me to?"

"Particularly? No. You've seen the worst of it."

"If you say so. I'm kind of getting thirsty…"

"I'll go get you a drink. What do you want?"

"Iced water is fine, thank you."

Ivan went to the bar (which had hired special event bartenders for the party—they weren't having Arthur or Tino work, obviously). Alfred was leaning against the bar counter and visibly pink from however much alcohol he had already consumed.

"Well, if it isn't…" Alfred started to greet Ivan maliciously, pausing and nursing his drink, "the communist."

Ivan rolled his eyes and ignored the American, ordering a vodka and Yao's ice water.

"Did ya just… order a fucking…" Alfred was slurring his words, and Ivan wondered if he shouldn't tell Antonio or someone that Alfred need a cab called for him. "Did you seriously just order a vodka, dude? Why don't you just go back to… fucking Russia."

Ivan hadn't heard these jokes for a while.

"And why don't you go back to Hickville, where uneducated shits like you belong?" Ivan asked simply, taking his drinks and turning back to return to Yao.

Alfred obviously didn't like this comment, and he expressed this by stepping forward and shoving Ivan; not enough to knock him over, but enough to cause him to drop his drinks, which shattered on the floor.

"Take that you… you… Russian son of a bitch."

All Ivan could do was give him an unimpressed look before Antonio and Arthur were dragging Alfred away, Arthur apologizing profusely over his shoulder and he attempted to cover Alfred's big mouth with one of his hands before he said anything more stupid.

Lovino yelled at someone to clean up the mess, and the bartender made Ivan new drinks.

When Ivan found Yao, he was just saying goodbye to Herakles, Sadiq's boyfriend, who Yao appeared to know.

"So," Yao started, accepting his water, "I see you don't get along too well with Alfred."

"He was drunk," Ivan shrugged. Hopefully Alfred hadn't managed to make Ivan look too bad.

"No, no, it's fine—I hate him too, to be honest. A lot."

"Well, I suppose I can't say I don't see why."

"The first time I met him he asked me what part of Asia I was from. Then he started asking stupid questions, like how many Pokemon cards I had. He's just so annoying and immature," Yao said, obviously extremely irritated, shaking his head.

Ivan nodded in agreement.

They had not noticed that Antonio had returned from dealing with Alfred, and was back to running around with the mistletoe, until it was staring Ivan right in the eye. Antonio had come upon them when they were unaware and held it above them.

Ivan froze, staring at it with wide eyes, and looked pleadingly at Antonio.

Yao was blushing lightly, and Ivan heard Tino make an excited little sound off to one side—apparently a lot of people were watching them now.

"Just kiss him already!" someone shouted.

Yao, seemingly unfazed now, rolled his eyes and grabbed the front of Ivan's scarf and pulled him down, and kissed him on the nose.

"You happy?" Yao called to the crowd at large, who actually sounded rather disappointed, but went back to their own business anyway.

It wasn't long before Antonio went up to the stage now, taking a glass and tapping it with a spoon to gather attention to himself. "Hola! Thank you all for coming! Let's all listen here, now!"

Antonio went through some speech about Christmas or whatever, and Ivan really didn't listen much. Yao wasn't paying attention either, rather watching Ivan as he glanced absently about the room.

Yao noticed that, throughout the party, he had been getting into more small talk with Ivan's own coworkers than Ivan was. _He is so awkward. (Cute!)_

"And don't forget, this party was graciously sponsored by my great grandpa-in-law, and so I'm sort of obligated to promote his gym, 'The Arena' in the Sodo region. Now, we've got some announcements…"

Ivan tuned him out again, still mulling over some of what Antonio had just said. _Grandpa-in-law? The Arena? Did that mean that Antonio's grandpa-in-law was Augustus, then? But…_

_Augustus was Lovino's grandpa._

_Were Lovino and Antonio married?_

Ivan noticed Lovino standing off to Antonio's one side, then, maybe ten feet away, holding a drink in his left hand. Ivan didn't see a ring on his finger, though.

He glanced back to Antonio, and didn't see a ring on his finger either.

Yao noticed Ivan looking between the two, and leaned up to ask Ivan what he was looking at.

"Oh, uh, nothing. Do you see a ring on Antonio's hand?"

Yao raised an eyebrow—what a strange question? He looked up toward Antonio anyway, who was still going on and on, and gave him a one over.

"Oh! Do you see his necklace? With the cross? It looks like there's a gold band on it."

Ivan recounted, and sure enough, there it was. It was a gold cross with a thick gold chain, and on the left side there was a gold ring strung onto the chain, resting on one side of the cross.

Ivan looked back to Lovino to see if he too had a ring on his necklace. Lovino didn't have a necklace. Huh.

It started to sound like Antonio was saying something actually important, or at least interesting, so Ivan tuned back in.

"So I have just one more announcement, and I'm not actually quite sure what it is, but a little birdie told me that Berwald had something to say?"

Attention quickly redirected itself to the large Swede. Berwald was obviously caught off guard and not expecting the sudden attention. He was turning red, embarrassed. "Uh…"

Ivan saw Tino nudge Berwald and smile encouragingly, nodding.

"Well, uh," Berwald started. He wasn't speaking loudly, but his deep voice still boomed through the room.

Ivan glanced over at Matthias, figuring he'd have been behind putting Berwald in this awkward position. But Matthias was watching with a partially confused, partially curious expression along with everyone else.

"We're, uh, well, we're—" Tino, who was trying to encourage Berwald to just _spit it out_ , seemed to being growing impatient, giddy from whatever Berwald was trying to say.

Finally, Tino snapped. He threw his hands up, particularly his right one, and cut Berwald off with a loud, "We're getting married!"

The engagement ring glinted where it sat on Tino's finger.

The crowd reacted quickly and loudly, surging forward to, as Ivan overheard Arthur say, "Take a look at that rock, mate!"

Yao and Ivan just watched everyone else as they clambered around the two Nords. Ivan watched, amused, as Matthias came and snatched Tino's hand from Francis, who had been complimenting the ring, and looked at it closely.

He let go and turned to Berwald, patting him heavily on the back, which got a somewhat sour look from the Swede, and exclaimed, "Wow, man, you finally did it! Maybe we could even have a double wedding, you, Tino, Lukas and me!"

Lukas was close by, and at that comment he shot Matthias the deadliest glare Ivan had ever seen.

As Arthur called a cab for the drunk Alfred (Arthur was certainly not going to leave early with him and miss the party), he also kept an eye out for Matthew, who would probably want to go home with his brother.

Alfred was leaning all over Arthur as the Brit helped him to the door. "Get off me, you wanker. You're so annoying when you're drunk."

Alfred just pouted at this, continuing to run his hands through Arthur's hair.

"Stay here, I'm going to go find Matthew," he said, sitting Alfred down with a stern face.

Francis had suavely asked Matthew if he would like a drink, and was somewhat put off when he had asked for a Coke.

Matthew seemed really sweet and nice and Francis wanted desperately to impress him. Francis knew that he came off as a really flirty and raunchy, not to mention flaming, homosexual, but he honestly just loved romance. He loved the idea and the philosophy and the practice of romance. Sure, he might sound like a girl if he ever expressed this, but he always dreamt of finding That Person to spend his life with. In the meantime, a few one night stands here and there didn't hurt, but it wasn't what he was looking for.

Essentially, he liked Matthew—the moment he saw him he knew he liked him—and he didn't want to scare him away.

So he back tracked and tried to start a conversation. Matthew stuttered through everything he said and rarely made eye contact with Francis. All Francis really got out of him was that he liked hockey and nature and worked in a national park.

"Oh, how exciting," Francis had practically purred. (Francis didn't actually particularly like nature or parks or anything like that, but maybe if he acted like he enjoyed something Matthew was passionate about, he'd actually _start talking_ ).

Matthew just shrugged.

Francis hummed, disappointed, and quirked his lips to the side. How could he get Matthew to relax?

"Come with me," Francis said, grabbing him by the sleeve and taking him toward the bar.

"What?" Matthew asked, but made no protest.

"Do you have any French wine?" Francis asked the bartender. She nodded, so Francis ordered two. He took one and put the other in Matthew's hand.

"Go on, try it. French wine is the very best," Francis said, watching Matthew as he nervously brought the glass to his (very nice) lips.

"Is good, no?" Francis asked.

Matthew nodded. "So you're French, I gather?" Finally, Matthew seemed interested in _something_.

"Oui," Francis said with a smirk on his lips.

"And you speak French?" Matthew was smiling. Francis nodded. "Say something."

Maybe this was his chance to impress him! He had to say something that sounded good, but he couldn't think of anything that actually meant something nice in his excitement, so he said the first thing that he thought of. "/I eat the eggs that are purple/."

Matthew listened intently, and laughed a small laugh, and Francis' flirtaciously leaning toward Matthew. Matthew's laugh grew a little louder at this, which confused Francis.

"/Why are your eggs purple? That probably not very good for you/," Matthew managed between his laughs.

 _Merde. He knows French_. Francis totally just embarrassed himself and now Matthew would never take him seriously ever again.

Matthew was still chuckling lightly when Arthur found them. "Hey Matthew, your brother got drunk and I'm calling a cab for him. I thought you might want to make sure he got home alright."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Matthew moved to put his jacket on.

Just as Matthew was turning to leave, he glanced back over to Francis and smiled. "It was nice meeting you. Maybe you could call me." And he turned and left.

"But… I don't hae your number…" Francis said to no one in particular. _Ah, so stupid—he could've been the one, and I went and let him walk out the door._

Francis sighed and looked back at the bar to locate his drink, before noticing that Matthew had left his half-full glass of wine and the napkin it sat on.

Napkin?

Francis picked up the cup and took the napkin, smiling. Written on it was a number, followed by a messy signature reading 'Matthew'.


	24. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock read five to twelve by now, and Yao seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Ivan, because he turned to him and asked, "Ivan? Have you ever had a New Year's kiss?"
> 
> "Uh… no?"

Because Yao didn't actually celebrate Christmas, Ivan didn't try to have him over with him that day. Instead, he video called his sisters, both of whom were wearing the sweaters that Yekaterina always made every year for the holidays. Yekaterina assured Ivan that his was coming in the mail.

"Oh," Ivan had said. "Thank you."

(It arrived in the mail the day after Christmas , and Ivan put it in the back of his closet without trying it on. It was purple with a tan 'I' knit into the pattern, and Ivan would honestly never, ever wear it).

After putting the sweater on its hanger, Ivan returned to his kitchen for the hot chocolate he had been drinking before the delivery man arrived. His phone sat on the counter beside the mug, and it was blinking with a message.

_Hey! For New Year's (thought I don't necessarily celebrate it) I was wondering if you'd like to watch fireworks at the Space Needle with me._

Ivan wondered if Yao really thought there was a chance that Ivan could say no.

_Yes, of course!_ He sent back quickly.

 

They met near Yao's apartment and took the bus to the Needle. Yao found them a bench and once they sat down, Ivan understood why Yao had made sure to bring a blanket. Once it was dark, it was _freezing_ cold.

They sat with the blanket over the both of them, and Ivan felt incredibly awkward, trying to avoid nudging or touching Yao too much, not wanting to make Yao feel uncomfortable.

However, Yao didn't seem too uncomfortable at all, as he folded his arm around Ivan's own, entwining their fingers. Ivan felt warm, even though they had held hands before. This felt different.

As they night went, Yao idly ran his thumb over Ivan's as he talked on about nothing in particular. It got colder the closer they got to midnight and Yao snuggled in closer to Ivan.

At one time, he had stopped talking and was focusing on repositioning under that blanket, and he took Ivan's arm and pulled it over his own shoulders, and snuggled back into Ivan's chest.

"It's a pretty nice night, huh?"

Ivan nodded absently, wondering if it would be okay to run his hand through Yao's hair. It looked so soft.

The park was starting to fill up, though Ivan was pretty sure a good portion of the newcomers were drunk.

It then occurred to Ivan that there was a certain _New Year's tradition_ that involved couples and kissing.

Oh no.

The clock read five to twelve by now, and Yao seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Ivan, because he turned to him and asked, "Ivan? Have you ever had a New Year's kiss?"

"Uh… no?"

Yao smiled sweetly and put his head back on Ivan's shoulder. Ivan hoped the other couldn't feel how hard his heart was beating.

Ivan didn't know how to kiss; that was the problem. He hadn't ever thought about it too much, even since he started dating Yao. He had _wanted_ to kiss Yao, but he was too nervous and too inexperienced. And he _really was_ inexperienced.

It was three minutes to twelve and now Ivan worried that once Yao found out how bad Ivan was at kissing that he'd break up with him. It was a silly worry but he just couldn't shake it off.

The countdown for the last sixty seconds began, and Ivan could feel Yao scooting closer to his side.

"Five… four… three…" Ivan felt hyper-aware of everything Yao was doing now. "Two…" He knew Yao was looking up at him expectantly. "One…" He refused to acknowledge Yao's determined set, intently looking up at Ivan with a look in his eye that Ivan could sense without even having to see it. Maybe he could postpone his embarrassment just a few seconds longer. "Zero!"

Fireworks boomed overhead, and Ivan, having never seen fireworks this close before, was honestly mesmerized.

Yao noticed Ivan's grip loosen where their hands were entwined, and, when the blue and red glow from the fireworks shone on Ivan's face, Yao saw the childish awe in his expression and couldn't help from smiling softly. Despite this, though, Yao kept his cause in mind and leaned closer, tapping Ivan on the shoulder. "Ivan…"

Ivan watched the fireworks soar up above them and explode, and had all but instantaneously forgotten his previous inner conflicts. So, when Yao tapped on his shoulder, he snapped back to attention, turning quickly to the other.

Yao was much closer than Ivan had expected.

"Ow!"

Simultaneously, their hands flew to their noses, clutching them.

When Ivan had turned, their noses had collided and now Ivan felt very dumb.

"I'm so sorry, oh, I'm sorry Yao, are you okay? I'm sorry," Ivan started. Yao was still clutching his nose, but as Ivan started to apologize, Yao just laughed.

_Great, now he's laughing at me._

"Well, uh…" Ivan was blushing so hard he was sure even his neck and ears were bright red (if they weren't already from the cold). The fireworks continued to burst overhead, but Ivan wasn't paying so much attention to that anymore.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Yao said, waving his hand. "My fault. Can I try that again?"

"Um?" Ivan wasn't sure what answer Yao was looking for there. Was Ivan ever going to say no?

Yao was leaning up again, and Ivan closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn't look he wouldn't be so nervous.

He leaned down a little bit, but as it seemed, Yao had also closed his eyes, because they fumbled immensely while trying to find the other, before colliding quite suddenly once again.

It was more of a teeth mash, really, and a collision that sent both of them reeling back in pain once again. This time though they were clutching their mouths instead.

"I'm so sorry," Ivan promised, though it was muffled by his hand. His upper lip was throbbing from the dull pain caused by their teeth knocking behind their lips. He didn't even know that was possible, but apparently it was very possible and very painful.

He tucked his face into his scarf to hide his embarrassment from Yao, who was feeling his lip to check if it split.

"I'm sorry," he said again for good measure.

Yao just hummed in acknowledgement of his apology, and dabbed at his own lip.

"Am I bleeding?"

_Oh god, I really messed up._

Ivan looked, and sure enough there was a small dot of blood on the inside of Yao's upper lip.

"I'm so, so sorry, I-."

Yao just smiled again, shaking his head and cutting him off by asking, "Have you ever kissed anyone before, Ivan?"

Surprisingly for Ivan, Yao wasn't being accusing. He was more amused than anything else.

Ivan quirked his mouth in a slight pout, before he shook his head no.

_Aww, Ivan is so cute!_ Yao thought to himself.

"Well then," Yao said, and Ivan was _very_ nervous about that tone. "I suppose it would be best if I, um, if I took the lead, then?"

The firecracker that clapped in the midst of Yao's sentence was not the only reason that Ivan was having trouble understanding what Yao meant. "What?"

Yao rolled his eyes and smiled wider. "Like this." He turned fully toward Ivan, letting the blankets fall down to their laps, and placed his hands on either side of Ivan's face. He leaned in carefully, maintaining eye contact which did nothing to help Ivan's nerves.

There were butterflies fluttering in his chest, which made breathing difficult and uncomfortable as it felt like they were nibbling away at Ivan's lungs. He was sure that if he mess _this_ one up, he'd probably throw up from apprehension.

Yao's hands were warm on his cold cheeks, though he knew his cheeks were actually pretty flushed and hot.

He hadn't realized he had squeezed eyes shut until he was peeking them open, wondering when Yao was going to actually _do_ it. He barely glimpsed a fond smile on Yao's lips before they were pressed against his own, Yao angling them just right so that they didn't bang noses or class teeth again.

Ivan was completely frozen. He did not know how to proceed so he just sat there, motionless, and let Yao moved his lips over Ivan's own.

But just as soon as it had started, Yao was pulling back and smiling timidly (and how dare he smile so cute and shyly after he had smiled so amusedly at _Ivan's_ shyness just a moment ago?), and Ivan felt himself unconsciously following his lips and leaning forward. As soon as he noticed though, he sat back up and blushed even darker.

"Oh."

Yao laughed.


	25. Just Need t' Adjust a Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wish there was something we could do, but we couldn't possibly take Peter…" Tino said apologetically to Arthur, returning to the previous conversation.
> 
> Berwald initially started to nod in agreement, but then he seemed to think about it more, and furrowed his brows.
> 
> "Why not?" he asked, turning to Tino.
> 
> "Wh-what? What do you mean 'why not'?"

Ivan and Yao went out for coffee at the next available time, which was two days later.

They met at Symposium. Ivan arrived before Yao, and Elizaveta greeted him with a sweet smile as she fixed him a black coffee. He asked her what Yao would like, and she suggested a peppermint something, so he ordered one of those, too. She kept shooting him side glances and small smiles, like they both knew some secret.

Yao arrived almost as soon as Ivan sat down. Ivan motioned him over and held the peppermint drink up for him.

"Ai! What is this?"

"Peppermint? Elizaveta said you'd like it."

"Oh, thank you!"

He sat down and took a sip from his drink.

"It is pretty good. That was sweet of you to buy it for me!"

Ivan smiled. He would know anything about the sweet drinks that Yao liked—he didn't really like peppermint in the first place, but if Yao liked it, that was good enough for Ivan.

"I, uh, I didn't get a change to give you this before, but I got you a Christmas present. Even though I know you don't celebrate," Ivan said, reaching beneath his seat for the paper bag he'd put it in.

"Oh! Really? You shouldn't have."

Ivan hadn't wrapped it, because he didn't wrapping paper and that's why it was just in a paper bag. He gave it to Yao, who gave him another excited and curious glance before peaking inside the bag.

He first pulled out the long red knit scarf. It was made of a soft, dark red yarn, with a panda face knit into one end.

"Wow! This is so cute! Did you make it yourself?"

Ivan nodded, and Yao made an excited almost-squeal noise, wrapping it around his neck haphazardly, and fawning of the panda detail.

He went back to the bag. "What's this? There's something else?" He pulled out the box of chocolates. "Chocolate? How did you know I love chocolate? This is so nice of you! I feel bad I didn't get you anything. And you paid for my drink, too. Ivan, you are too sweet for me—I have to get you something now, too!"

He left the scarf where he had draped it on his shoulders as he popped open the chocolate box.

"Do you want one?" Yao asked, taking one himself.

Ivan shrugged and took one.

Later, when they were saying goodbye outside the shop, Yao leaned up for a kiss.

Ivan was momentarily confused, staring down at him awkwardly. Then it occurred to him that yes, this was a thing they could do now, and he leaned down the rest of the way for a short kiss.

Yao briefly put his hand on the back of his head, leaning even more up onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss

When he pulled back for breath, Ivan was light headed with a little smile. Wow.

Yao smiled. "See you later?"

Ivan nodded dumbly, and watched as Yao walked the other way as he wrapped the new scarf tighter around his neck.

 

When Ivan got into work, Tino was pouring a whiskey for Arthur, who wasn't actually on duty tonight. Alfred was playing with little Peter off to one side.

"All my brothers are going home today, and we never found a place for Peter to stay," Arthur bemoaned, taking a long drink from the glass handed to him.

Tino hummed sympathetically, furrowing his brow, "Well, what are you going to do?"

"I suppose I'll have to send him to a boarding school—I can't keep him at my place. I'm not home enough to take care of him."

Ivan took a seat several spots down from Arthur, and Tino acknowledged him with a nod.

Berwald came in then, and Tino already had a drink ready for him.

"Any news 'n Pet'r? Y' find s'meone t' take him?" he asked. Arthur shook his head with evident melancholy.

"Hm."

Peter, who had seen Berwald come in, ran over to them now and grabbed at Berwald's arm. "Berwald! Berwald! Come play with us!"

Berwald turned a light shade of red, and Tino tried to muffle his laughter behind a hand. "Uh, not right now."

Peter pouted for a moment before looking over the counter at Tino. He made puppy dog eyes and said in the sweetest manageable voice, "Tino?"

"No," Tino said, before Peter could even finish asking. The boy deflated and went back to Alfred, who was obviously jealous over how Peter ditched him for the other two men.

"I wish there was something we could do, but we couldn't possibly take him…" Tino said apologetically to Arthur, returning to the previous conversation.

Berwald initially started to nod in agreement, but then he seemed to think about it more, and furrowed his brows.

"Why not?" he asked, turning to Tino.

"Wh-what? What do you mean 'why not'?"

Berwald shrugged.

"We _could_ ; we'd just need t' adjust a bit."

"Wh-Berwald! You and I both work at night!"

Berwald shrugged again. Arthur looked between the two hopefully, and Tino, still dazed by Berwald's comments, huffed and poured a shot of vodka for himself.

"We can talk about that later."

"Well," Arthur said, and they all heard the persuasive tone he took on, "Peter will have to be registered in the boarding school by the weekend…"

Tino hummed, obviously not too happy with the idea, but put on a happier expression when Alfred brought Pet over to Arthur—the club was about to open and it was time to take Peter home.

"When can I go back to Tino and Berwald's, Arthur?" Peter asked as Arthur took his hand to lead him outside. Arthur was taken aback by the question, but Ivan saw Berwald shoot a glance and a raised eyebrow to Tino, to which the Finn made an unimpressed face and frowned slightly.

"Oh, Peter, I think you should spend more time with your brother," Tino said, smiling over at Peter.

Peter slumped over one of the stools, laying heavily on his chest and swinging his legs, "But I don't wannaaaa, I wanna go to your house! I wanna live with you guys."

Arthur gave Tino another glance then (momentarily ignoring the other meaning of the kid's words—that Peter liked Tino and Berwald more than him), pleading and hopefully persuasive. Peter was still pouting on the stool.

Tino sighed, and more addressed Arthur's glance than Peter's comment when he said, "I said that Berwald and I would talk about it."

"Huh?" Peter asked, perking up instantly and looking at the three of them. "What? Really?"

Ivan had to agree that Peter was a cute kid, and he smiled at that hopeful face.

"But in order for us to do that, you have to go with your brother and be good, alright?" Tino said in a soft voice.

Peter nodded excitedly, and took Arthur's proffered hand, waving good bye to Tino and silently demanding a hug from Berwald, who blushed again and gave him an awkward one-armed hug.

Ivan had not realized how much Tino and Berwald had baby sat Peter, nor how close the kid had gotten to the couple.

Arthur left now, and Alfred came to sit at the bar. He plopped into the seat Alfred had left vacant.

"So does anyone know who that French asshole my brother was talking to at the party was?"

"Uh? No? Was it Francis? Antonio's friend? Why?" Tino asked with a small concerned frown.

"I don't know. All I know is that he stood Matthew up the other night and now he's super sad and it's not cool and I'm gonna beat the shit out of that guy next time I see him."

"Wow, that's way too bad. I'd seen them talk and I thought they really liked each other? Maybe it was just an unfortunate circumstance; something may've come up for Francis, perhaps?"

"I don't know and Matthew won't tell me. But if it happens again I swear to god I'm going to shove a fucking baguette down that Frenchie's throat."

"Is Matthew really that upset about _one_ date?"

Alfred shot him a dangerous look. "My little brother is sensitive and anyone who would hurt him are the ones I'll have to hurt preemptively." Alfred sighed. "I've always been protective of him, and I know that's not very good but he's so shy, and so that's why if this guy thinks he's going to come in and lead Matthew on he's got a couple things coming his way. Pour me a whiskey."

Tino laughed under his breath and got a glass out for Alfred.

 

Arthur buckled Peter into his seat in the back and got into his own seat.

He didn't say anything as he turned the car on and pulled into the street.

He knew he couldn't keep Peter at his place much longer, and he knew that Peter didn't mean to be insensitive, but it still hurt a bit to see how much Peter preferred Berwald and Tino over him.

Peter was usually very talkative during their drives, and Arthur had to check in his mirror to make sure Peter was still there when he didn't start talking within five minutes.

Peter was looking out the window quietly, but he saw Arthur looking back at him and smiled.

"What's up, Peter?"

"Nothing," he said with a cheerful shrug. "I was just thinking about Tino's pretty new ring."

_Oh_ , Arthur thought. _Yeah, of course he would notice that_. Arthur sometimes forgot how observant Peter was. He had totally forgotten about Tino and Berwald's new engagement.

"Why did he have that?"

"Well, uh, Berwald gave it to him," Arthur said, racking his brain as to how to explain it.

"Oh." Peter looked back out the window. "Why?"

"Well, uh, you know. Berwald and Tino love each other so…" he trailed off, wondering if Owen had ever had this conversation.

"Yeah!" Peter smiled and kicked his legs in the carefree fashion only kids could, for no exact reason.

"Well…" Peter still stared at him intently, and Arthur worried that he wouldn't _get_ it. "They are… they're getting—uh. They're going to get—they're agreeing that they want to spend the rest of their lives together."

"Oh," Peter said simply. Arthur had honestly never thought to try to the explain the concept of homosexuality to his eight year old brother. "So they're getting married? Like Ma and Dad?"

"Uh, yeah! Exactly."

Peter nodded and looked out the window.

_I suppose he understands more than I expected he would. Bright lad._

"I think they'll be a good husband and wife."

Arthur smiled to himself at the childishness in the comment.

"Just like you and Alfred!"


	26. Not Merely 'Okay'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yao's hand found the top of Ivan's turtle neck that he had put on, pushing it down and out of the way.
> 
> "Wait, I-." Ivan tried to grab Yao's wrist and stop him from doing that, but it was too late.
> 
> "What are these?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i am behind my schedule by like three chapters now but Merry Christmas.   
> enjoy and thanks for reading

Yao invited him out to dinner a week later, and Ivan happily agreed. Yao had greeted him with a kiss on the lips and a peck to the cheek, for which Ivan had patiently bent down.

It was a small café that Yao said he'd always wanted to go into.

They had gone inside and enjoyed a dinner together. At one point, Yao grabbed Ivan's hand under the table and smiled at him. Ivan blushed.

He didn't know why Yao liked his hands so much—to Ivan they always seemed rough and awkwardly big. They were callused and his fingers were fat, unlike Yao's soft and slender hands.

"So your sister is applying to schools? Or she already has, more likely, right?"

Ivan nodded.

"Now I forget; was she wanting to apply to University of Washington over here?"

"I… think she did. I haven't heard if she was accepted or not yet."

Yao nodded. "That would be exciting for her, huh? Coming all the way out here for college."

Ivan nodded again.

Ivan had not really noticed anything too strange in Yao's behavior since he had given Ivan the cookies several weeks before, except for the occasional stiffness or disorientation when they met early for coffee or breakfast. He always wondered why this happened, usually when Yao would bring a baggy of cookies. Sometimes it would occur to him to ask Yao, but he would always decide that it was probably best not to.

When they were finished, Yao suggested that they go for a walk; Ivan thought it look a bit cold for a walk, but if Yao wanted to, Ivan thought it would be okay.

As soon as they were out of the café, Yao took one of Ivan's hands and swung their arms between them.

"Do you want to go to the park?"

Ivan shrugged, and Yao pulled him toward whatever park he had had in mind.

They were sort of near Ivan's apartment, though Ivan didn't know how that had happened, when Yao stopped. "Oh, look, a new bookstore. We should go in!" he said, pointing across the street and forgetting all about the park.

"Alright."

Yao led them across the road, and Ivan noticed the dark skies just as he was being pulled through the door.

The shop was small, quaint, and kind of dark. Yao waved amiably to the woman behind the counter and quickly found the cooking section.

"You can look around too, if you want," Yao said when he noticed Ivan lurking at his side as he skimmed the shelves quickly.

"Oh, no, that's fine." Yao looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Really, I'm fine."

"Alright then. These books look really good; I don't think the library has any of these. I might buy one," he said, pulling one of the books off the shelves.

Ivan nodded, looking at the title of the book he had picked up. Ivan wasn't sure what it was, but it was definitely not in English. Which reminded him of the Japanese books he'd been reading that one time. But this didn't even look like Japanese.

"how many languages do you even know?" Ivan asked. He'd honestly been wondering about it for a long time.

"Uh, well, I learned Mandarin as my first language, and Japanese when I was about five. And English about that time too, because school. Then I learned Spanish and French in high school or whatnot, and somewhere along the line I learned German and picked up a bit of Dutch. So that's…" he recounted on his fingers quickly, "like seven. I don't know if I really count Dutch or French as languages I actually know but I'm fluent in Mandarin, Japanese, German and English."

Ivan didn't respond for a moment. "'Somewhere along the line'? You sound like it was an accident. 'Oops, I accidentally know seven languages. My bad.'"

Yao laughed, "No,- I just—I always planned to travel a lot when I was younger."

"Oh." Ivan wondered briefly what young Yao must have been like, going to culinary school and learning all these foreign languages.

"I'm going to buy this one. Then, do you want to keep going to that park?"

"That sounds good."

Yao went to the register and paid, and they went back outside to the open street. The sky had gotten darker, and the winds had picked up, but when Yao didn't seem to notice, Ivan also chose to ignore it.

They were literally just across the street when it started to rain. At first it was light enough for Yao to laugh it off and pull Ivan toward a terrace for shelter. By the time they got under cover, however, the rain had pounded down, and they were soaked clear to the bone. Ivan was wearing a thick coat and even he could feel the chill set on his skin. Yao was not wearing a thick coat, rather a thin red sweater as per usual, and he was drenched, hugging himself tightly. His hair was slicked down to his face and dripping.

"Uh, well this kinda puts a d-d-damper on the ev-vening," Yao said, with a forced and frigid smile.

"Do you want my jacket? Here," Ivan said, shrugging off his coat and draping it over Yao's shoulders.

"Th-thank you," he said, pulling it close around himself. "It d-doesn't look l-l-like it's going to let up. I c-can call Kiku t-to pick us u-up."

"Ah, that will take a while, though. My place is up the street. We could go there to dry off. We'd, uh, probably just have to run."

"Won't you be cold without your coat?"

Ivan shrugged.

The rain was pouring down harder now, but Yao agreed that they should go to Ivan's apartment.

"Okay, just follow me I guess." Ivan grabbed Yao's hand and started running. Yao struggled to clutch onto the coat, and Ivan's shirt was soaked the instant they left their shelter.

They stumbled their way up the street, and when they reached the entrance to Ivan's apartment, they collapsed in a puddle right outside his door.

Yao was breathing rather hard and shivering, and Ivan's hair was wetted down to his forehead, with his scarf dripping heavily onto the floor.

Yao took a moment to catch his breath, and glanced over at Ivan, who was looking at him, and they couldn't help but laugh.

"You look like a drown rat!" Yao said, tousling Ivan's hair.

"You should take a look at yourself, then," Ivan shot back. "Let's go inside and get dried off, then." Ivan stood and helped Yao up, and rummaged in the pocket of the coat the other wore for his keys.

Unlocking the door, it suddenly dawned on him just how messy his place was.

"Um… actually, could you wait here for a moment?" Ivan asked as he glanced sheepishly back at yao.

"Oh. Sure," Yao shrugged.

"Thanks, it'll only take a second," Ivan said as he quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind him so Yao couldn't see inside.

Ivan went to work quickly, not wanting to leave Yao outside for long. He picked up piles of clothes and plates and shoved them to the side, stacking dishes in the sink and throwing clothes into his room. He put boxes of food away, and bemoaned not being able to clean up any more.

He went back to the door and pulled it open. "Come in; I'm sorry for making you wait."

Yao nodded that off and came in, shaking slightly, and Ivan motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.

"Do you want some tea?"

"That would be nice. A towel also, maybe."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Ivan went about filling the kettle and putting it on the stove before going into his bathroom to get him a towel.

"Here," Ivan said when he handed him the towel. "What kind of tea do you want? I have Earl Grey and Nestle green tea."

"Heh, the green tea would be good. You don't think I could have some dry clothes, do you?"

"Oh," Ivan said. Yeah, he probably should've thought of that. "Yeah, sure. I don't think any of my clothes will really fit you… is that okay?"

"Of course it was okay—Yao was probably freezing.

Ivan went to his room and dug through his drawers for something small enough. The smallest thing he had was a dark blue t-shirt. He grabbed a clean pair of boxers and sweats and went back to the living room.

"The bathroom is right there," he said as he set the clothes down beside Yao on the couch.

Yao was toweling his hair off, and when he put the towel down, Ivan realized that Yao had undone his pony tail. His hair fell around his face and Ivan couldn't help but swallow. He had never seen Yao's hair down before.

"Thank you!" Yao took the clothes and went to the bathroom.

Ivan sat on the couch for a moment to collect himself. It was rather pathetic of him to be so taken aback or whatever just because Yao's hair was down. It wasn't as if he thought that Yao's hair was just perpetually up in his pony tail holder, he just wasn't expecting it to be quite so attractive. The kettle started screeching just then though, so he jumped to his feet and quickly took it off the stove top.

He poured some water into a mug and plopped a tea bag into it. Yao came out of the bathroom a moment later, clad in Ivan's shirt, which went down to his mid-thigh, and Ivan's sweats, which barely clung to his hips even after he pulled the drawstring tight.

"Your tea is done."

"Ah, thank you," Yao said, taking the mug. "It doesn't look like the rain's letting up any time soon. Do you have any movies we can watch?"

"Oh, I suppose I have Netflix on my computer."

"What! We should watch Ponyo, then!"

Ivan didn't know what that was. "Okay."

Ivan went about making himself a cup of tea, too, and changing his clothes after logging his laptop into Netflix. Yao found whatever movie he had had in mind.

When Ivan returned, Yao had found his closet of blankets already and was making a nest on the couch. Seeing Ivan, he grabbed his mug off the coffee table and sat down. Ivan grabbed his mug also and joined him. Yao grinned and folded his legs under himself and pull Ivan's arm over his shoulders, pulling blankets up over the two of them. He put the laptop on Ivan's legs and sipped from his mug.

"This is pretty much my favorite movie ever," Yao said.

Ivan smiled. Yao sounded excited to show Ivan the movie.

Yao pressed play and snuggled in closer.

Ivan was surprised that the movie was a cartoon at first, but when he thought about it he decided it was actually pretty predictable of Yao—the man might be almost thirty years old but he still had a soft spot—a very, very large soft spot—for cute things.

Yao obviously got very into the move, 'aw'ing at cute parts and gasping at others, reacting as if he'd never seen it before though he'd obviously watched it many times.

Ivan only half paid attention to the movie, carefully watching the cute faces that Yao made out of the corner of his eye.

As the movie ended, Yao stretched from where he was perched, halfway onto Ivan's lap. Ivan was mindlessly running his fingers through his silky hair.

"That was a cute movie, huh?" he asked, moving the laptop to the coffee table and laying down so his head was pillowed on Ivan's thigh.

"It was okay."

"'Okay'? Ponyo is a _classic_. It is not merely 'okay'!"

"Aren't those kinds of shows for kids?"

Yao gasped theatrically at this, pressing a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. "Oh but Ivan, are we not all children, _here_ ," he said, pointing to Ivan's heart like in those dramatic moments that only happen in movies.

Ivan rolled his eyes and Yao snickered, but his hand didn't move from Ivan's chest. He leaned up and kissed Ivan and before Ivan even knew what was happening, Yao was sitting in his lip, hand combing through Ivan's short hair.

Yao took Ivan's hands and placed them on his own shoulders and lower back, and Ivan let out an undignified sound when Yao moved to deepen the kiss. Yao's tongue licked along Ivan's lower lip and he opened his mouth, allowing Yao to take control.

Yao rearranged himself so he straddled Ivan's hips and moved a hand to cup Ivan's jaw. Ivan's eyes closed against his will, and he tried to keep any more embarrassing sounds to himself.

Yao was a really good kisser.

Only a moment later, Yao pulled back to take a breath. Ivan found himself subconsciously following Yao's lip back before he could catch himself. Yao smiled, and then that smile was being pressed down Ivan's jaw and behind his ear. Ivan closed his eyes again, and he felt his face grow hot. Yao's hand found the top of Ivan's turtle neck that he had put on, pushing it down and out of the way.

"Wait, I-." Ivan tried to grab Yao's wrist and stop him from doing that, but it was too late.

"What are these?"

Ivan took Yao's hand away from his collar and looked away, fixing the collar consciously and quickly. He averted his eyes from Yao.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I should have asked first," Yao moved off of Ivan and onto the couch beside him.

Ivan didn't know what to say. The scars were from a time of his life that he didn't give much thought to any more, and they hadn't exactly been at the forefront of his mind as Yao kissed him, but now he couldn't believe he'd let Yao move his collar aside with no fuss.

Should he tell Yao, since he'd asked? It was like Yao could read his mind.

"You don't have to tell me. Uh, I'll make us more tea." Yao got up and did just that, and Ivan watched him leave guiltily, and as he heard Yao fumbling with the tea pot, he fumbled with his turtle neck nervously. He could still feel Yao's lips on his neck. He licked his lips and tasted chapstick that was not his own.

 _Fuck_. He didn't want to let the stupid marks on his neck from when he was _fifteen_ stop him from kissing Yao more. He wanted to kiss him _all_ the time.

Yao came back, with mugs of tea and a cautiously curious expression.

Ivan accepted his tea and Yao sat down. Ivan sensed that he was disappointed with how that kiss had ended, but also quietly concerned.

He took a sip, and the two of them stared blankly forward at the coffee table in awkward silence. This was not how either of them had planned the evening to end up (not that Ivan had really had any expectations; Yao however had planned something a little hotter than just hot tea).

Ivan knew Yao wanted to ask something. He wanted to say _something_ to break the silence.

At that moment, though, Yao turned to Ivan. "Can I show you something?" he asked. Ivan furrowed his brow, confused, but nodded anyway.

Yao set his tea on the table and stood up. Before he knew it, Yao was pulling his shirt up and off. Ivan's eyes were wide; he really didn't know what was happening.

Yao saw his confusion as soon as his shirt was all the way over his head and smiled. "No, no," he laughed. "Look," he said, turning around to show Ivan his back. There was a long, dark scar stretching from his left shoulder blade down and toward his spine, stopping just an inch or so short.

Ivan's brow was furrowed in confusion—who did this to Yao? Why was he showing this to Ivan?

Yao turned back around and sat, still shirtless and apparently not minding too much. "So, it seems like we both have our secrets, huh? Don't feel bad for not telling me yours."

Ivan swallowed. Of course he knew there were things Yao didn't tell him yet. Just off the top of his head he could think of quite a list; like why he never graduated from culinary school, or why he didn't talk about his family in much detail. Why was Kiku so protective of him? Thinking even further back to the day Ivan first spoke to him, Ivan realized he never ever got an explanation as to who that guy had been, the one who had flagged him down on the street.

This all passed through Ivan's mind in a moment. Yao, apparently, didn't like his silence.

"Not that I don't want to tell you eventually."

Ivan nodded. He knew that Yao was indirectly telling Ivan that he too, eventually, would be expected to tell _his_ secrets then.

"Well, do you want to watch another movie?"


	27. Warm Milk and Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, what are you two up to?" There was a certain eloquent suspicion in her voice that she so expertly concealed that Yao, who was untrained in understanding Natalya's underlying emotion, thought she was honestly just curious.
> 
> "We're watching movies, Natalya." Ivan squinted at the webcam in a way Yekaterina would call passive-aggressive scowling. She wouldn't be wrong.

After the second movie had ended, Ivan knew Yao was getting tired. Ivan, though, was accustomed to staying up late due to his job, so he wasn't tired at all.

"You can sleep in my room, I suppose. I'll sleep out here."

"What? No, it' so cold out here! Come on, I'm sure we can both fit on your bed."

Yao had put his shirt back on because it was cold, and had also snuggled close into Ivan's side once again.

"Ah, no, it's fine. You're my guest so you can go ahead."

"No, you'll get a cold, it's not warm enough."

Ivan sighed quietly. "Fine. Let me just clean it up in there, okay? It'll just take a second."

He went and quickly shoved all the trash in his room aside, picking up vodka bottles and placing them on the floor in his closet and closing the door to conceal them. Didn't want Yao to think Ivan drank too much (even though he really did drink too much).

When he went back out to the living room, Yao had the Skype window open. Ivan had left it logged in.

"Hey Ivan, 'Natalya' is messaging you. That's your sister right?"

"Uh, yeah, let me see that." He took the computer and sat beside Yao.

_Hello big brother. How are you?"_

"Ah, sorry, I'm going to have to chat with her for a bit. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Yao nodded. Ivan figured Yao would busy himself getting another cup of tea or something so he could talk to Natalya in private, but he seemed very interested in what the siblings had to talk about, sitting close to Ivan's side and reading over his shoulder.

'I am well. What about you?'

_Well, it's really cold, but my school finally fixed their heater so it's okay._

_How's it going with Yao?_

Ivan glanced at Yao before typing.

'Well, I think it's going okay; I'm with him right now, so…'

_Really? I'm video calling right now._

Before Ivan had time to type out a protest, the video call request popped up.

He sighed and contemplated ignoring it, but before he could move to accept or decline it, Yao rushed to click the 'answer' button. "Hello!" Yao greeted excitedly, waving at the webcam as soon as Natalya appeared on the small screen.

"Hello. You are Yao." As in normal Natalya fashion, this was not a question. "I am Natalya."

"Nice to kind of actually meet you!" he said, still waving excitedly. Natalya was still in her school uniform and her scarf and gloves were still on.

"So, what are you two up to?" There was a certain eloquent suspicion in her voice that she so expertly concealed that Yao, who was untrained in understanding Natalya's underlying emotion, thought she was honestly just curious.

"We're watching movies, Natalya." Ivan squinted at the webcam in a way Yekaterina would call passive-aggressive scowling. She wouldn't be wrong.

Before Yao could interject with anything how Ivan knew he wanted to, there was a bang in the background of Natalya's camera.

Natalya looked up and toward where Ivan remembered the front door being. She greeted someone in Russian and Ivan knew who it was. He glanced at Yao. He could not allow Yekaterina to see that Yao was at his place and in his clothes at this late of an hour or else she'd start to suspect things.

Yao noticed when Ivan started to inch the computer so that Yao didn't show up in the picture at all. He glanced questioningly at Ivan, who didn't look at him.

Another lady, who looked much more like Ivan than Natalya did, appeared in the picture behind the couch that Natalya was sitting on. She bent down to hug Natalya from behind, which Natalya rolled her eyes at but accepted it nonetheless. Yekaterina greeted Natalya warmly before shrugging off her ratty-looking jacket. She didn't notice that Natalya was on video call, apparently, because she didn't pay the camera any mind.

Yekaterina had short dirty blonde hair, almost the same color as Ivan's, and a sweet face like his, too. There was dirt on her face and in her hair and she looked like her hands would be covered in calluses.

Natalya and her sister spoke in Russian for a moment, too quiet for Ivan to discern, even, before Natalya seemed to tell her that Ivan was on video with her.

"Ah!" she moved forward, closer to the camera. "Privet!" she went on to say some other things, but Yao couldn't understand any of it. Ivan still had it angled so that Yao's face was completely out of the shot.

Ivan said 'hello' back to her. She continued the conversation, and Yao had to gauge the situation from the expressions that Ivan was making. He looked kind of nervous at whatever comment she was making. Ivan glanced down at Yao's elbow. It was still in the window of the camera. Yekaterina had asked who else was with Ivan.

Ivan stuttered back a response, "/What do you mean, 'who else is there?/"

Natalya laughed, and Yao still didn't know what was going on. "You heard her, she asked who was there. We can still see his arm, idiot." She said this in English so Yekaterina wouldn't scold her for using an unfriendly term with Ivan.

"Hah, ah, okay. Say hello to Yekaterina, Yao," Ivan said with a nervous side glance to Yao. He introduced Yao in Russian and turned the camera so that Yao's face was in the shot again.

"Hello!"

Yekaterina leaned even closer to the computer so she could see better, and then smiled and waved kindly. Then she looked at her wristwatch and seemed to strain for a moment as she tried to figure out what time it was in their time zone. She addressed Ivan again, in Russian.

Yao watched Ivan for his reaction again- it's really all he could do. Ivan turned light pink and node. "/Yeah, good night Yekaterina./ Talk to you later Natalya."

The call ended.

"What did she say?"

"She looked at the time and said something along the lines of 'Isn't it almost midnight? You boys better get to bed."

Yao laughed. He didn't understand why Ivan seemed embarrassed by that. "She doesn't know, does she?" It was pretty obvious. It was also obvious that Ivan didn't want Yao to know.

"What? What does that mean? What do you mean by that?" Ivan trained his eyes on the screen carefully, stumbling through his questions and acting like he didn't know what Yao meant.

"You know, about us. Or even about you? Does she know anything?"

Ivan bit the inside of his cheek. It was for this reason he didn't want Yao to stay right next to him as he talked to Natalya. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with Yao finding out that Ivan was keeping their relationship secret from Yekaterina. "No."

"She doesn't know you're queer either?"

"No."

Yao hummed.

Yao probably thought he was ashamed of them, keeping a secret like that from his sister.

"She's orthodoxy, isn't she? I can understand needing to wait for the right moment to tell her."

"What?"

"What? You are waiting for the right time to tell her, right? You can't keep something like this secret forever. Trust me, it eats away at you."

"No, I mean. I thought you'd be at least a bit upset."

Yao frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No, being upset about something like this is immature."

Ivan smiled- he really should've known he wouldn't have to explain himself to Yao.

"Well, in any case, whether I could understand her or not she seemed sweet. And I think she's right: time for bed."

Ivan's bed was pushed against the wall of his bedroom, because he was used to sleeping by a wall, so he took that side of the bed. Yao apparently never slept with a shirt on, or so he said, so he shucked Ivan's big shirt into the clothes bin by the door. Ivan also usually slept without a shirt, but tonight he didn't want to worry about being self-conscious of his scars, so he kept it on.

He laid down and faced the wall. He felt the mattress give as Yao laid down beside him, and pulled the blankets over himself.

"Good night, Ivan," Yao said, yawning and snuggling into the blankets. Of course Yao was a snuggler. Ivan imagined that he was also curled into the fetal position with his arm curled under the pillow. He smiled at the thought but refused to let himself peek behind himself. He didn't know why he was restricting himself like that, but he felt that it was a good idea that he did.

"Good night."

Yao fell asleep within a few minutes; Ivan could tell by how his breathing slowed and evened out.

But Ivan couldn't fall asleep. He never slept this early. The red glare of his alarm clock on his dresser told him it was a quarter past midnight. According to his inner clock, he shouldn't be asleep for another three hours, at least.

He tried to stay still and will himself to fall asleep.

That proved useless and he gave up a half hour later. He stated thinking of other things instead.

Did Yekaterina suspect anything, seeing that Yao was obviously sleeping over at Ivan's place? Were two adult males having a sleepover considered normal? Ivan didn't think it was.

And what about Yao's reaction to his scars? At first he had been rather shocked, but then he showed Ivan his back and moved on like it was nothing. Yao was rather hard to unsettle for long.

But how did Yao even get that scar? To think of someone causing that, harming Yao in a way that left such a painful-looking mark, it made Ivan angry to consider.

As Ivan thought more on it, he was reminded of how Yao had said that he and Kiku were half-brothers. Due to different surnames, Ivan gathered that they had the same mother, and Ivan was further angered to think that his mother's first husband may have been abusive, or something.

Ivan brushed that notion off, hating to assume anything.

Subconsciously, however, his mind continued to run through all the scenarios he could think of as to how Yao had gotten that scar.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He could hear the pitter patter from the gutter near his window and the breathing of the man next to him. It was peaceful.

Yao made a cute little humming noise in his sleep and readjusted his arms.

Ivan glanced at him fondly. Yao was facing away from him, so he couldn't see his face, but his hair was fanned out messily on the pillow behind him. Carefully, Ivan shifted and ran a hand through his hair.

Yao was making sleeping noises, but he wasn't moving so Ivan assumed he was still fast asleep.

Yao's hair was so smooth and soft. Ivan was always told how soft his hair was, but it was nowhere near as silky as Yao's.

Yao suddenly flinched, interrupting Ivan's thoughts. He flinched away from Ivan's hand, his muffled noises becoming quietly panicked.

"Yao?" Ivan whispered. Yao's shoulders began to shake lightly. Ivan took hold of them gently, trying to shake him awake, but Yao flinched away from them violently.

He was having a nightmare, Ivan realized. The whimpers became more urgent, more like cries or pleas and Ivan wanted nothing more than to shake him awake and make them stop but he knew that that would be ill-advised. Yao got louder.

He tried to whisper soothing things, opting to at least try something. "Yao, it's time to wake up now. It's okay, just wake up now…" Yao was kicking at the blanket like it was strangling him, and Ivan pulled it off him quickly. He knew it would be best to wait it out until Yao woke up, but he was trapped between Yao and the wall and he'd like not to be kicked and even aside from that, he was worried. Ivan had never known that Yao had nightmares as intense as this. He hadn't known that Yao had nightmares at all.

Right as Ivan was going to try scooting off by the foot of the bed, Yao sat up, gasping. He looked around, still panicked by his dream.

"Yao? Are you okay?" Ivan asked cautiously.

"Wha- Ivan?" Yao turned to him, then looked about the room. "Oh. Right." He huffed.

"Do you… would you like some tea?" Ivan asked. This was another thing Ivan wasn't experienced in-remembered that when Yekaterina was young she could never sleep and their mother would fix her warm milk and sing until the three of them all fell asleep; somehow he didn't think that would work with Yao. Not with Ivan's singing voice. Tea sounded much better.

"Um? I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I could get it myself, you should go back to sleep." Yao was still sleepy, and it showed it small slurs in his speech.

"Oh no, don't worry, I was still awake. Do you want that tea?"

Yao rubbed his eyes, his hand still shaking, and nodded, getting out of bed. Ivan followed him.

Yao went to the bathroom and Ivan went about making tea. Yao came back out, and Ivan looked over at him as he entered the kitchen. He looked tired and pale and particularly small. His eyes were red and he still seemed disoriented. He trudged over to Ivan momentarily peering up at him with bleary eyes and a forcibly neutral expression before he leaned his forehead low against Ivan's shoulder.

"Yao?"

Yao didn't answer, rather clutching at the front of Ivan's shirt. He was shaking and Ivan decided against pressing for any explanation. He put his hand on Yao's back instead, and just held him, leaning back against the counter.

Yao was crying- well, he couldn't tell if he was crying, but he was definitely sobbing- and Ivan shushed in him a way he hoped was soothing. Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan as best he could from the angle and pressed his face up against Ivan's neck, which caused Ivan to stiffen up momentarily. He chided himself and relaxed, and put a hand to the back of Yao's head. Yao sniffled and nuzzled his nose against Ivan's collarbone, and his sobs leveled off into broken little whimpers which just about crushed Ivan to hear.

Ivan had the urge to kiss him, so he did. He moved his hand for Yao's nape to his jaw, gently coaxing him to look up. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes quickly as Ivan leaned down with a gentle smile.

The kiss was chaste and short but Ivan could still feel how Yao seemed to just melt into it.

Ivan didn't know why Yao was crying or what his nightmare had been about, but he was happy and eager to help him in any way.

When the kiss broke, Yao rested his head against Ivan's chest. He breathed out what Ivan hoped was a contented sigh. He sighed, too, and savored the moment. It was rather sweet, and he wanted to stretch it out for all he could get. However, the kettle screeched, causing them both to jump.

Ivan stumbled over himself and over Yao in his haste to take it off the stove and stop the obnoxious noise. Yao had jumped back at the sound, and halfway tripped over himself. Ivan grabbed one of his arms and barely prevented him from falling over and hitting his head or something.

It completely ruined the moment they'd been having.

Ivan couldn't help but laugh. They'd been so scared, and by a kettle of all things.

Yao scowled, initially thinking that Ivan was laughing at _him_ , but a moment later he was laughing too. He playfully shoved back against the arm that had grabbed him, and Ivan pushed back, and they kept pushing each other around with grins on their faces, and one way or another Yao ended up pinned against the counter and Yao was looking up at him with big eyes and then they were kissing again, more heatedly now. Yao's hands were warm on Ivan's face and neck and Ivan braced a hand on the counter beside Yao, the other gripping Yao's small shoulder.

Yao was licking Ivan's lips, massaging his fingertips through his hair and Ivan couldn't do as thing but open his mouth helplessly.

Yao was a good kisser. Ivan already knew that, but he couldn't help from noticing it over and over. He'd probably never get used to it.

Yao ran his tongue over Ivan's teeth, exploring all that he could. He didn't think Ivan was quite conscious of it, but he was making the cutest whiny little sounds. He peeked at Ivan and smiled when he saw the blush on his cheeks and how tightly his eyes were screwed shut. Yao bit down lightly on his bottom lip and pulled back.

Ivan's eyes shot open- he was still leaning quite heavily onto Yao, and he was panting very lightly. Yao just had to trace his fingers over his kiss swollen lips.

Ivan's knees felt weak. His lips parted involuntarily as Yao ran his thumb over them. He wanted to kiss Yao again, so he leaned in to do so, but Yao looked away, effectively blocking him.

"Hm?" Ivan hummed, his mind still dazed.

"Ah, sorry, I just thought… well, I'm sorry for waking you up. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll just make myself some tea and I'll be fine."

"What?" Ivan snapped out of the fog in his mind. "No, wait I'm sorry. Did you want to talk, or…?"

Yao raised an eyebrow, and scrutinized Ivan's question. He rolled his eye and sighed, turning to the cabinet and grabbing a mug (Ivan didn't remember showing Yao where he kept the mugs)."Well…" he started to fix himself tea. He ran his hand through his hair. "Perhaps, despite what I said earlier, I do want to tell you- some things."

Ivan frowned slightly while Yao's back was turned to him. "Okay. Do you want to sit on the couch, or?"

Yao nodded, taking his mug and moving to the couch with Ivan. For a few moments, they sat in silence as Yao stirred his tea.

"So," he began. Ivan didn't know what Yao was going to tell him, so he didn't know whether he should try to comfort him as he listened, or just listen. "You know Kiku and Mei and I weren't full siblings, right?"

Ivan nodded.

"Well, I'm the oldest, obviously, and then Mei and then Kiku. Mei's our cousin." He took a sip of his tea. "Kiku is my half-brother." Yao kept his eyes trained on the coffee table as he spoke. "When I was four my father and Mei's father—they were brothers, and were commercial fishermen together. They were on the Sound when a nasty storm hit. They both drowned. My Mom remarried and had Kiku. Mei's Mom died of cancer and she came to live with us."

Yao paused a moment to glance over at Ivan, who was listening closely.

"My Mom, though, had a _heart attack_. She was _thirty six._ I was sixteen. _She_ had always encouraged me to pursue culinary arts and go to culinary school. My stepdad had been neutral on the subject when she was around." He stopped.

He swirled his tea before taking another sip.

Ivan could anticipate what was coming next. He could guess it from the way Yao became quiet, and looked too deeply into his mug.

Ivan put a hand on Yao's knee. He knew it was coming. He didn't know what he'd say when it did though. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Yao smiled vaguely, but shook his head. "Now that I've started I have to finish." He took a sip of tea. "I'm just organizing my thoughts. Give me a moment." He took Ivan's hand for a second, before moving it to Ivan's own knee and standing. He went around the couch and went to the stove in the kitchen to get more tea.

When he came back, he took a long drink from his mug. He glanced at Ivan and took a deep breath. "My stepfather wasn't exactly 'supportive' of my wish to pursue culinary. He told me it was stupid, tried to convince me to change my mind. When I refused to listen, he just blatantly made fun of me in front of Mei and Kiku. He told me he'd never fund my school expenses if that's what I was going to do. My Mom had left me a couple thousand dollars for college expenses. She and my Father had started it when I was born. My stepfather drained it—since I couldn't access it yet, I couldn't do anything about it. And on top of that…" Yao furrowed his brow and stopped.

Ivan was already outraged. "And he _what_?"

Yao took a deep breath. "Even when my Mom wasn't around, he would sort of…" He took another breath, glancing at Ivan nervously. "He would always beat up on me."

Ivan clenched his teeth to refrain from interjecting.

"I was always too scared to tell my Mom. I always thought it was my fault." Yao paused and glanced at Ivan again.

"Does Kiku know?" he asked softly.

Yao sighed and smiled bitterly. "I only had the guts to tell Kiku recently, and he completely waved it off. You see, my stepdad had always been so supportive of Kiku and Mei because they wanted 'real jobs'. Kiku refuses to believe that his 'Papa' could ever do anything like that."

Ivan furrowed his brows and frowned. He was almost shaking with indignant anger. "And did he do that to you? That scar on your back? Did your stepfather do that?"

Yao raised an eyebrow at the emotion in Ivan's voice, but nodded and looked at his hands.

Ivan scowled and made his hands into fists. How dare _anyone_ touch Yao in that way. It had hurt Ivan when he first saw the scar, hurt to think that that deep of a scar had been inflicted on such a sweet person; but then to discover that it had been inflicted _purposefully_ by someone who was supposed to _protect_ Yao, Ivan just couldn't handle it.

Ivan shook his head. He didn't know what good it would do, but he couldn't stop. His head hurt thinking about a young Yao, full of hopes and dreams of becoming a chef and seeing the world and learning all those languages, at the mercy of such a horrible person. "That's not right," he said to no one in particular.

"What? Why are you so upset? It's not your fault."

"No, you didn't deserve that, though."

"It happened a long time ago now, it's alright."

"No, it's not! Not when it obviously still bothers you. Even if it didn't, that should never have happened, not to you." Ivan could feel his face growing hot. He furrowed his brows again and shook his head, and pulled Yao closer to himself, so Yao's head was against his chest and stroked his hair soothingly, as if Yao were the one in hysterics.

Ivan couldn't hardly conceive anyone aggressively laying a finger on Yao—but even trying to upset him beyond words, to the point where he felt it welling up inside him, rising from his stomach and ascending until it go stuck in his throat, where he choked on it. It burned his eyes until they welled up with angry tears.

"No, no that's not right."

"Ivan, are you crying?"

"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that…" Ivan's voice broke off, and he reverted back to just shaking his head because he couldn't trust his voice. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

Yao smiled fondly and pulled back from Ivan in order to look into his face. As he had suspected, Ivan was crying. He smiled bigger and wiped away the one tear that slid down his round cheek. "Oh Ivan, I don't need you to do that. I'm a big boy, I swear." He tapped Ivan on the nose. "And besides, maybe sometimes a little pain isn't exactly bad." Ivan could hear the tightness in his voice still, despite what he said, and he felt the stiffness in Yao's embrace when he hugged his shoulders. It wasn't long before he heard Yao start to sniffle into his shoulder.

They were silent for a long while, each in their own thoughts, Yao still hiding his face against Ivan's shoulder. Ivan rubbed his back slowly.

_Maybe sometimes a little pain isn't exactly bad_. Ivan didn't like the sound of that. Yao, in Ivan's opinion, should never ever have to be in pain. His grip on Yao tightened subconsciously, imaging a perfect world where Yao could just sit and read or cook or do whatever he wanted and never have to work a job he didn't like or deal with painful memories.

But as his mind wandered, he began to suspect that perhaps, that comment wasn't referring to Yao's self. The collar of Ivan's turtleneck began to itch, and his heart sped up a notch. Yao wasn't aiming that at _him_ , was he? Yao hadn't been able to tell what kind of scars they were on his neck, was he? Not in such a quick glance as he'd gotten, surely.

He was snapped out of this train of thought when Yao breathed in a deep sigh. "Thank you," he whispered against Ivan's ear as he moved to stand.

Ivan stood also, and neither of them said a word as they moved back to the bedroom, both suddenly exhausted. Ivan kept an arm around Yao all night.


	28. Chapter 28

When Ivan woke up the next morning, Yao was already in the kitchen. He'd found Ivan's pans and such and was fixing them eggs and French toast.

"Hope you like these, you didn't have the right extract," Yao said as greeting, handing Ivan a plate stacked with three slices of French toast.

They sat down to eat quietly. When they were done, Yao went to the bathroom to find where he had hung his clothes the night before.

"Oh man, Kiku texted me at least twenty times last night. I feel bad not having told him I was spending the night."

"Oh, have you responded yet? I didn't even think of that." This probably wouldn't buy Ivan any brownie points with Kiku.

"Yeah, but he's already at work now. Mei's apparently going to pick me up in an hour or so. Do you think I could take a shower?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. I only have Head and Shoulders, but that's better than nothing, right?"

Yao nodded. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra toothbrush either, would you?

"Uh, no but I could run and get one when you shower. Come on, I'll show you how to turn the faucet on."

 

By the time he was going to the store, his list had grown from a toothbrush to face wash and bar soap, vanilla extract, stick butter, and granulated sugar (what is the difference between granulated sugar and any other kind of sugar?). Apparently, Yao planned to come over to his place a lot more.

When Ivan got back from the store, Yao was washing dishes in the kitchen, wearing his own red shirt and Ivan's sweatpants.

"You don't have to do that Yao, I'll take care of those tomorrow," Ivan said, taking the plate away from Yao. "Here's the toothbrush you wanted. And... everything else."

"Thank you! You know, my pants never really dried last night. Do you think I could borrow some jeans?"

"Sure, yeah, I'll look for a pair for you."

Yao went about brushing his teeth and Ivan dug through his jeans drawer, hoping to find some skinny jeans or  _something_ at the bottom of the drawer.

By some stroke of luck, he found a smaller pair of slacks that Yekaterina had packed for him when he let home, despite them no longer fitting.

He brought them out for Yao, who was washing the soap off his face in the sink. Yao thanked him and went to close the door to change. When he came out Ivan thought Yao looked so cute with his baggy red sweater and Ivan's baggy slacks.

Mei called soon after that, saying she was parked on the street in front of the apartment building. Ivan walked out with him to make sure he got there alright. He waved to Mei as Yao got in the car. She smiled back.

 

At work that night, Ivan noticed a lot of activity at the bar as soon as he entered the main room. He went over to see what was happening.

Sadiq, Arthur, Alfred, and Matthias were gathered around Tino and Berwald at the bar, and Ivan overheard Matthias ask Berwald something. "You're seriously going through with it? You're leaving?"

Berwald hummed and took the drink Arthur handed him.

"Yeah, Matt. Since Berwald somehow convinced me to adopt Peter, we need to have someone to stay home with him at night."

"Look at these guys- going all domestic on us all of a sudden. First you're engaged, next you got a kid, soon Tino will be coming home to a pie cooling on the window sill and-" Sadiq cut himself off when he earned glares from both Tino and Berwald.

"So when are you taking Peter?" someone asked, moving on from Sadiq's comment.

"We're just setting up a bedroom for him. Might take two or three weeks before it's ready. Berwald doesn't like  _buying_  furniture."

"Lot better when ya make it yaself."

"I've been trying to get him into a school over near their place in the mean time," Arthur piped up.

"And what about your wedding? When's that going to be?"

"Oh, we plan to have a somewhat long engagement. My Mom has to come out and help me pick everything out, you know. I think it'll probably be next December," Tino said, leaning his elbows against the bar.

"I was thinking May," Berwald said.

"What? Why?"

Ivan lost interest after that. Everyone knew Tino loved Christmas, so of  _course_  he wanted their wedding then. Berwald apparently, or so he said, liked May because the flowers were blooming then. That was sweet, but everyone also knew who was going to win that little debate, and it definitely would not be Berwald.

Sadiq had moved to sit at another table by himself, brooding over something. As the group's attention shifted away from Tino and Berwald's disagreement, Arthur went over to talk to him.

"What ever is the matter old chap?"

Sadiq bowed his head and started on his most recent sob story, about how one of his harmless comments had offended Herakles and he left. Again.

Ivan overheard all of it and sighed. Same old same old.

Antonio was walking by and overheard them saying something about Herakles, how he was staying over at Kiku's apartment (Ivan also overheard this and was a little surprised; he hadn't even realized that Yao's brother knew Herakles. Small world).

"Oh? Kiku and Herakles? I saw them just earlier today! It is funny, because I went over to Gilbert's with Francis and Lovino's cute brother Feliciano was there too! Kiku and Herakles and Feliciano had come over to see Gilbert's brother. I didn't think he looked very upset, though he  _was_  asleep for the most part." Antonio was trying to console Sadiq, Ivan knew, but the thing was that he  _never stopped talking_ , to the point that no one was paying attention any more.

"That also reminds me," he continued, "Is it true that Kiku's brother stayed the night at your place last night? Yes? You sly dog! Kiku was almost angry about it, which is saying something for him."

"Wait what? Ickle Ivan had a  _boy_  over? Ivan don't you know boys have cooties?" Matthias teased.

"I don't know what you mean? What are cooties?" Ivan had never heard the term before.

"Wait does that mean you didn't get laid?" Did he  _actually_ stay at your place or what?"

"Yeah he did but-"

"Ivan you're hopeless. You're a lost cause. I give up."

Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed the Dane out of Ivan's face lightly. "Oh please, they've only been dating for like a month. How long does it ever take you to  _successfully_ make  _your_ 'classy' move actually work?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that-"

"I don't want to know. That was rhetorical. Anyway, I'm sure we've all got work to get to. Go on."

The group dispersed slowly.

 

After work, Tino was washing up the bar when he called Ivan over.

"Berwald and I are taking Peter ice skating tomorrow and were wondering if you'd like to come. Yao is invited as well, of course."

Ivan loved ice skating and always had, so naturally he agreed. "That sounds very fun! I'll text Yao and get back to you in the morning."

Tino nodded and went back to wiping down the counters.

 

When Yao had gotten into the car with Mei that morning, she was quiet the entire way to his apartment. She parked on the side of the street and he moved to open the door and get out, but Mei stopped him.

"You know there's going to be a shit storm when Kiku gets home, right?"

"I figured there would be. I'm an adult though, and I can handle myself."

"He was calling me and Arthur and anyone else he could think of. He was worried sick." She was trying to make sure Yao could gauge just how upset Kiku was going to be. He already  _knew_. And for some reason that made him irate.

"Maybe you two should stop worrying about me like I was a child? I have my own life, okay?"

"This isn't going to make Kiku like Ivan very much."

"Yeah? What's he going to do about it?"

"Yao, you're acting like a child."

"I am always treated like a child. I am the eldest! Do I still need to check in with Mama Kiku every six hours? Is that what you all want?" Yao was using a forceful tone, one that Mei was unaccustomed with ever being addressed with. She was taken aback.

"Why are _you_  so upset?" she asked with an intentionally calm voice.

Yao stopped. He honestly didn't know why he was reacting like this.

"What happened at Ivan's?" Mei asked, "Did something happen with him? Are you okay?"

Nothing. No, why do you ask that?"

"Well, I mean, you're never like this. Maybe you shouldn't see him for a couple days if this is what you act like after you've been with him?"

"What? No, Mei, I'm not mad because Ivan. I don't know why I'm mad at all." He actually did have a hunch as to why, but Mei didn't need to know.

Mei frowned. "Well, go get yourself some tea and settle down. I need to get to work."

Yao sighed, but got out of the car and went into the apartment without looking back.

 

Kiku got home every day at about five. Yao had not had work, so he was sitting home watching the clock. He was dreading when Kiku would come home, but there wasn't much he could do to stall it.

Unless he went to the grocery store, perhaps. He went to the pantry, searching for an excuse to go buy something.

There were only two teabags of his favorite tea left.

That was reason enough to go to the store in Yao's opinion. He wrote a note and pinned it to the fridge and left, locking the door behind himself.

The night was crisp when he exited his building. It was already dark, and the white clouds overhead reflected the sun dimly.

Why had he been so irritable earlier, he pondered as he passed the late night walkers on the street. Maybe he didn't get enough sleep last night? Perhaps.

Or maybe it  _was_ something else.

Maybe the way that Ivan had been so supportive of Yao after he told his story, and how Yao knew his own family would never give him that kind of attention. The only attention they seemed to give him was making sure he stayed in line.

He shouldn't take that out on Mei though.

But that wasn't even the only thing he was irritated about.

For at least five years he's lived with Kiku now. He'd had his job and he's gone out to town with Arthur, but that was essentially all his life entailed. He was a boring older man now, acting decades older than he was. And whenever he changed his routine, Kiku and Mei acted like he was going through some rebellious teenager years. How _dare_ he have a life for once.

Yao scanned the shelves mindlessly, still considering his own problems.

As he was leaving the store, turning toward his apartment, he decided he didn't want to go home yet.

He tucked the little box of tea into his pocket and walked down the street toward a small memorial park. On the outer circumference of the park there were benches which were rather well lit. He went and sat down at one of these.

The bench faced up the street toward Yao's apartment. He breathed in the cool air and watched people bustling around restaurants and shops all along the block. The light buzz of the afternoon was rather soothing.

His phone vibrated then, ruining the moment.

A message from Kiku told him he was going over to Ludwig's. Don't wait up.

Yao was somewhat relieved by this.

He returned his attention to the scene before him.

From where he sat he could see down the sloping street to his left, right down toward the water. Buildings blocked his view of the piers and the shore, but he could see the water far across the sounds, where mountains were illuminated quite charmingly by the setting sun.

Yao watched the sun disappear before standing and stretching and beginning his walk back home.

Once he was home he sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He really didn't know what it was that the TV was showing him, too caught up in his own thoughts once again. He hadn't realized how late it was getting, sitting there blankly as one show after another started and ended. He was only alerted to the time that had passed when his phone buzzed.

_Do you want to go ice skating tomorrow?_

He texted back right away- "Sure, what time?"

 


	29. 'It'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How's Peter doing?" Tino asked when they were within earshot.
> 
> "I ran into the wall and my lip started bleeding! This is fun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im getting rly lazy and not updating the same but um it's still being written so !! do not lose faith my friends

They met at two the next afternoon in front of the skating rink. Tino and Berwald had, against Ivan's protests, paid for both of their skates.

They went to a bench and tied their laces up. Ivan could easily tell that Yao hadn't ever skated before. He stumbled along on the blades, clinging awkwardly to Ivan's sleeve as they made their way to the rink.

"Have you ever done this before?" Ivan asked with a sly smile.

Yao scoffed indignantly, even as he grabbed onto Ivan's shoulder to stop himself from tripping. "Of course I have! Just, uh, it's been awhile."

Ivan shook his head, smile still in place, and stepped out onto the ice. He held out a hand to help Yao.

"Oh please, I don't need your help," Yao said stubbornly, grabbing the wall and cautiously inching into the rink. He wobbled and started shuffling his feet cautiously. He kept a hand tightly gripped on the wall. Ivan smiled fondly and skated beside him.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Yao shot a stubborn glance over at Ivan. Unfortunately, the break in his concentration caused him to lose balance. His arms flew out, grabbing the front of Ivan's coat and pulling him down with him. They went sprawling down, one on top of the other.

Ivan rolled onto his knees and stood, asking Yao if he was okay. "Ow," was the only response he got.

Ivan chuckled and grabbed Yao's hands to pull him up.

"I'm too old for this. Can I go sit down now?"

"What? No! We've only just started. We are literally less than twenty feet away from where we got in. And you have to go all around the rink to get out anyway." Yao huffed. Ivan rolled his eyes, "Here, let me help you."

Ivan caught his hands again, both of them, and stood facing Yao. This time, Yao rolled his eyes.

"Tell me if I'm about to run into anything," Ivan said before starting to pull Yao forward, he himself moving backward.

"W-what? No, don't just pull me, I-!" Yao struggled, causing him to stumble again and crash into Ivan. Fortunately Ivan had enough time to react and catch him though, supporting him completely from where he grabbed around Yao's shoulders.

Ivan righted him again and sighed. "You have to trust me, okay?"

" _Fine_ , just don't get us killed or injured."

" _Yao._ You have to _relax_. Let me guide you. And you really need to be my eyes I have no idea where I'm going."

"That is not helping me relax!" he cried, but gave Ivan his hands again anyway. Ivan smiled and started to pull him, and immediately Yao's grip tightened.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm going to go slow, okay? In a little bit I'm going to have you move your feet like mine, but not before you're ready, okay?"

Yao nodded begrudgingly.

"Watch my feet, okay? Look."

Yao peered down, wary of losing his footing again.

"See how my feet move like I'm walking backward? It's that easy."

Yao nodded and watched Ivan's feet intently.

"Do you think you could try it yourself now?"

Yao took a breath and shakily did as instructed. He slid his left foot forward, but slipped and was barely caught by Ivan.

"It's okay, you'll get it."

Yao huffed again. "Can I take a break?"

Ivan smiled, a little goadingly, but pulled him over to the wall anyway. "I'll be right back, alright? I'm just going to skate around a few times."

"Don't let me stop you."

Ivan smiled and skated off.

Yao relaxed his shoulders and took a moment to look around the rink. It was relatively busy, but he could still find Tino and Berwald easily, one on either side of Peter, holding either of his hands. Occasionally, the little guy would trip and Berwald would pull him up by the arm to prevent him from falling.

Yao smiled—those three were so cute. Yao had known Peter since he was very small, when Arthur's family would visit. Even now, working at the bookstore with Buchanan and Riley, Yao heard about little Peter all the time.

Yao was glad he'd found a good home.

Ivan waved and smiled as he skated past Yao, and Yao was honestly amazed by how little time it had taken Ivan to go all the way around the rink. Yao watched him skate away. He was passing a lot of the other skaters, not even seeming to consider how fast he was going.

It was almost funny seeing awkward young Ivan skating so smoothly and elegantly. It made Yao feel bad not being able to skate. Ivan made it look so _easy_.

Yao's arms were tired from how tightly he had been clinging to Ivan, so he tried to relax his shoulders further, though it was difficult as he clutched the wall for dear life.

Soon however, Ivan was back beside him. "Are you ready to keep learning now?"

Yao sighed.

Eventually, Yao was able to move very slowly without any help. He'd nearly lost his balance every so often, but Ivan was always there to grab his elbow and steady him.

"You're doing well. Do you want to try going faster? Grab my arm, I'll lead you."

Yao grabbed his bicep tightly.

"Okay, you're going to keep moving your feet."

Ivan continued to instruct Yao, telling him to distribute his weight better, lean forward, and Yao did as he was told for fear of slipping again.

Ivan led him around the entire rink until they were coming up on the entrance again. "Do you want to take a break? Maybe get some food?"

"It would be nice, yes, I am getting hungry. Where are the concessions?"

Ivan smiled and led them to where he guessed the concessions were (upstairs, following all the smaller children running around).

Tino and Berwald had already gone up to the concessions, apparently, because as soon as Yao and Ivan entered the little eating area, Peter stood up and was running toward Yao, calling, "Ow! Ow!"

Tino came running after him. "What wrong Peter? I'm sorry Ivan, I don't know what got into him," he apologized, grabbing Peter's hand and scooping him up. Berwald was still seated at their table, turning around lethargically and trying to figure out what just happened.

"No, no it's fine," Yao said, waving him off. "He's talking to me; he never _could_ say 'Yao', for some reason. He's always called me 'Ow'."

"Oh that's right; I always forget that you and Arthur are such close friends. Now _you_ ," Tino said, turning to Peter, "You don't go running away from us like that." Tino shook his head and brought him back to where they had been seated.

"So what do you want to eat? I'll buy," Ivan said, steering them toward the concession stand sign.

"No! My skates were already paid for; I'll buy my own food, thanks."

"Find. How about you pay me back? You can go sit down near Tino."

"Fine. I'll have a, uh pretzel, I suppose. And something to drink? I like coke." And he went and sat down at the long table next to Peter. Peter was sat next to Berwald and across from Tino.

Tino smiled and leaned closer across the table. "You know, you and Ivan are so cute out there. And Ivan's a really good skater, huh? I think I might challenge him to a race. Who do you think would win, Berwald?"

Berwald had been wiping up whatever mess off of Peter's face, not paying attention to what Tino had been saying. Yao saw his slight panic at being addressed when he was off guard, before frowning and saying, "I don't know."

Tino noticed this all also, and scoffed.

"Well anyway, here he comes," Tino smiled as Ivan sat down with a tray of food. "That was pretty fast. How's Yao's skating lessons coming along?"

"He's learning pretty quickly for being so old."

"Hey!"

Ivan smiled. "I'm kidding. Yao _is_ learning pretty well. I hadn't known that you couldn't _skate_."

"How did you learn to skate, Ivan?" Tino asked as Yao and Ivan began to eat. "You are very good."

Ivan chewed on his first bite of pizza as he considered the question. "I guess my Ma taught us how to skate as soon as we could walk, pretty much. There was a lake that always froze up solid during the winter near where I grew up. My Ma somehow got a hold of skates for all three of us—she was nearly professional when she was young."

"That's cool! Why didn't she make it to pro?"

Ivan shrugged and smiled his particularly sweet smile. "I suppose she met my father? Haha!"

Yao thought that laugh was off, and the smile was off too. He could tell Ivan didn't like telling this story.

"That would throw a wrench in that plan, huh?" Tino nodded his head.

Peter stood up on the bench seat and whispered in Berwald's ear impatiently, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

"Pet'r wants ta go skate s'more."

"Oh, you'll go with him? I'm still finishing here."

Berwald nodded and took Peter out to the rink again.

"I didn't think you two were taking Peter for a few weeks still?"

"Oh, he's not moved into our apartment yet, but we take him out and do things sometimes," Tino nodded. "We've finally gotten him registered at the elementary school near us, just this morning. And Berwald is looking for another job. You know, he gave his two week notice? Just so he'll be home at night? He needs a day job now. It's almost like he thinks he can just sell some furniture he's been making. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Yeah, I heard something about that," Ivan said.

"And you two are engaged—how's the planning going?" Yao asked.

"Yeah, we've agreed to a December wedding, and Peter's going to be the ring bearer. That's all we've got so far."

Ivan laughed to himself—he knew that Tino would get his way on when the wedding was going to be.

"What? What's funny?"

"Oh, sorry, nothing."

Tino gave him a playful weary scowl. "If you say so. But what about you two? How long have you been dating now, like a month and a half? I haven't even heard of one fight between you two! That's impressive. Though, I suppose the only comparison I have are Arthur and Alfred and Sadiq and his…" Tino shook his head and sighed, "Problems."

"Oh god, Sadiq? Herakles' boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you know him too?"

"Herakles always crashes on my couch whenever he leaves Sadiq. It's rather pathetic."

Tino shook his head and laughed. "Honestly, Arthur keeps trying to give Sadiq advice, but if I ever met this Herakles guy, my advice would be to _break up_. Seriously, their relationship is off just as often as it's on. They just need to see other people."

"But then he'd pretty much move into my apartment. I really don't mind what they do as long as it does not interfere with my life. I would wake up one morning and try to make breakfast at eight AM, and be yelled at by this stupid Greek about how I was making too much noise. _In my own home_." Yao scoffed at the end.

Tino laughed, but began to stand up. "I should probably go make sure Berwald is handling Peter alright. He sure can be a handful, you know! Are you both going to go keep skating?"

Ivan and Yao looked at each other.

"I'm getting tired. You can keep going if you want."

"Ah, maybe for a little bit. Is that really okay?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll sit in the stands and watch."

"Alright, I'll just do a few laps."

Tino and Ivan went back to the rink together, Yao refusing to not clean up the table before he left it. They skated side by side, making their way around to catch up with Berwald.

"So, you've really got it bad for Yao, huh?" Tino asked as they started around a corner.

"What?"

"Gosh, you don't even notice it, do you? Man, you've got it worse than I ever suspected!"

"What do you mean 'it'?"

"Ivan you're adorable."

They were approaching Berwald now, and Tino switched his attention there, so Ivan dropped 'it' from his mind entirely.

"How's Peter doing?" Tino asked when they were within earshot.

"I ran into the wall and my lip started bleeding! This is fun!"

"What? Are you okay?" Tino asked, shocked. Peter just nodded and showed Tino where his injury was with a juvenile sense of pride.

Ivan smiled; Tino really was the doting motherly type. Even when he was just worrying over Berwald's mother, his empathy had always reminded Ivan of a mother's.

"Berwald how'd this happen?" Tino asked as he inspected Peter's lip.

"H'said he want'd ta try ta skate by himself."

"And you just _let him?_ "

Berwald shrugged.

Berwald was the type of parent figure to let kids figure things out for themselves.

The two of them would definitely make good parents together.

Berwald's phone rang right then, and he excused himself to answer it, Tino taking Peter's hand from him. Berwald skated toward the exit, answering the phone as he went.

"That might be one of the jobs he applied for. Say, do you know what time it is? Peter needs to be home by four thirty."

Ivan looked at his phone. It was almost four and he had a message from Yao.

He told Tino the time and they started toward the exit after Berwald.

They took their skates off and turned them in. Tino fussed over Peter, untying his skates and tying his shoes up in their stead.

When they met Berwald back in the lobby, he explained that his sister had called—Ivan had forgotten about her, not even noticing when she left. He wondered if that was rude.

"Oh? Is she okay?"

"Was just callin' ta check in, I s'pose."

Tino hummed. "Well Ivan, we're gonna get going now. We'll be seeing you around."

Ivan nodded. When they were gone he went to text Yao that he was ready to go, but before it sent Yao had appeared in front of him.

"Hey! Did you get my text?"

"Um, no? Let me look."

The message said he was down the street, at a bookstore he had seen when he was coming to the ice rink. Ivan rolled his eyes because _of course Yao spotted a bookstore._

"You didn't notice I was gone? You weren't waiting long? That's good; I found a movie that we should watch together sometime. Not tonight though because I have to make dinner. But some other time."

"You're not going to tell me what it is?" Ivan asked, pulling open the door for Yao.

Yao smiled, "Nope."

Ivan sighed. "If you keep showing me _your_ movies, we have to watch some of _mine_ too."

"Are they scary? I only like cute."

"Oh come on, they're good, I promise!"

Yao rolled his eyes. "Are we taking the bus? We should get to the stop if we are."

Ivan nodded and they went on their way, holding hands like they were still on the ice.


	30. You Would Compare It to a Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What? What is it?" Ivan asked, putting his hands over his neck consciously.
> 
> "No, no not that, it's just..." Yao blinked a couple times before continuing, "Your biceps are huge."
> 
> "I- what?"
> 
> "They're like, bigger than my head- oh my god? How?"

It was about a week later, When Ivan was on his Skype, and he got an influx of messages from Natalya.

_Big brother, guess what! I have very exciting news._

"What is it?"

 _I got into UW! With a good scholarship, too_.

"That's great!"

_I'll be coming out to Washington in August.  
I'll tell you more about it later, but I need to get going right now._

Natalya logged out.

Ivan was very excited for her, and hoped the scholarship was significant enough that it allowed her to actually _afford_ it.

Anyway, it was already getting late so there wasn't much to do. He wasn't tired, of course, so he searched the internet, first for the reputation of University of Washington, scoping out how much tuition was and what kind of activities there were on campus, so that he'd have an idea of what his sister would be doing. Soon, however, he grew bored of that and started browsing whatever site caught his eye.

 

Kiku was away on a short business trip, so Yao was home alone.

He and Ivan had not been able to go on a date since the ice skating, but that just meant he wasn't spending as much money.

Tonight, however, as he sat alone watching his dramas, he really wished he had Ivan to cuddle with. He could name why, but he was feeling somewhat anxious.

He wanted to go to Ivan's, but he also really didn't want to get off the couch. He wanted to stay where he was and sleep and maybe eat everything he could.

He knew that the longer he'd sit there, the worse he would feel, and he wanted to pick up his phone and ask if he could come over to Ivan's. He wanted to bake, but not here. Not alone.

It took him forty five minutes of sitting and staring at his phone before h worked up the motivation to pick it up and text Ivan.

 _Can I come over?_ He typed.

He didn't expect a reply right away, but he got one anyway.

_Yeah, sure. What's up?_

Yao laid there a moment longer without responding.

He decided that he was going to bake anyway, whether or not he was at home. He mentally listed the ingredients he'd need to make brownies, and went to the kitchen. He measured out each ingredient into their own little baggy, which he plopped into a large paper bag.

It was dark when he walked to the bus stop. A few smokers were standing outside a restaurant down the street from his apartment, the only people he saw out and about.

The bus ride was quiet- it was the last bus of the night and Yao hoped that Ivan let him spend the night again, because otherwise he'd be walking home.

When he entered Ivan's building, it was quiet and the windows were dark.

Ivan answered the door within a few seconds when Yao knocked. Yao came in and placed the paper bag on the table, then turned to kiss Ivan on the cheek.

"So what's this about? What's in the bag?" Ivan asked after a short embrace.

"Oh, I thought we could make some brownies. You have bowls right?" he didn't wait for Ivan to show him where they were before he was pulling open the cabinets searching for them.

"You cam all the way here at midnight to make brownies." It wasn't a question. Ivan wasn't stupid, and he knew that that wasn't the main reason for Yao coming.

Yao paused from his search and glanced over at Ivan guiltily. Not that a stern eye from Ivan could force Yao to admit anything he didn't want to.

"Yeah, why not?" Yao shrugged and went back to look through the cabinets.

Ivan rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter.

"The bowls are up here," he said, opening the cabinet above the sink and grabbing out a couple plastic bowls.

"Okay! So then, do you want to help me make it?"

Ivan shrugged, "You know I'm not really that good at cooking."

"It's not cooking, though, it's baking. Come on, it's easy. I'll tell you exactly what to do." He took the bowls and laid them out on the counter. He carefully emptied the paper bag's contents into the right bowls.

"You can sift the dry ingredients. Here, put these in this bowl and sift them. You do have a sifter?"

"Um, no. I don't."

"Oh, just use a spoon then. You'll just have to do more work."

Ivan grabbed a spoon from a draw. He poured the bags that Yao handed him into the bowl.

He stuck the spoon in and stirred it earnestly, disturbing the flour and sending it up into his face in a puffy cloud.

Yao glanced up at the displeased sound Ivan made, and laughed. Ivan's face was white with flour.

"You have to stir it slowly," Yao laughed.

Ivan pulled a face at being laughed at, and sullenly went back to stirring the flour, this time more careful.

""Okay, is that stirred enough now?" Yao asked a minute or so later. "I can add that to my mixture if it is."

Ivan nodded and passed his bowl to Yao. He slowly emptied the flour into his brown, wet mix.

"Oh! By the way, do you have a square pan?"

"Let me see," Ivan said, pulling open several cabinets before he found one. "Here," he said, handing it to Yao.

"Okay, good. Can you hold it in place? I'm going to pour the batter into the pan. And can you set the oven? I think it's supposed to be at three seventy five."

"Yeah, alright."

Yao spread the batter around the pan and set it down.

"We have to wait for the oven to heat up now."

Ivan nodded and went over to the couch. "Baking isn't fun," he said bluntly, plopping down on his seat.

"I'm offended," Yao said, taking a seat beside him.

Ivan smiled and pulled Yao to himself. Yao giggled as he went, and put a hand on Ivan's chest.

Ivan kissed his forehead and sighed. "Now, what about these brownies were so special that you came out here in the dead of night to bake them?"

"Well, uh, I just really wanted some brownies?"

"You could've made them at your place, then."

"I, um. That's a valid point. But I didn't want to make them at my place?"

"Why not?" Ivan asked. He wasn't going to let Yao get away with this without an explanation.

"Uh," Yao was floundering. He finally just sighed: there was no way he was going to win. "Fine, I was lonely. I guess, because my brother's out of town."

Ivan smiled and kissed his forehead again. "Why are you so embarrassed of that?"

Yao sighed and pushed Ivan away from his head, saying, "Since when did you get so touchy feely?"

"Don't change the subject. Were you upset?" Ivan pressed.  
"Um," Yao bit his lip. "Yeah, I suppose."

"So you called me first thing?" Ivan asked, grinning. Ivan liked the idea of someone being so dependent on him, especially when it wasn't either of his sisters. Especially when it was Yao.

Yao pouted, "Shut up. Stop looking at me like that."

"Oh, but you're so cute," Ivan said, pinching his cheeks with a smug expression.

"You're gross and I hate you."

Ivan laughed. Yao sighed indignantly.

"No but was that really it? I'd imagine you'd answer my question over text if you were just lonely."

Yao didn't give Ivan enough credit, really- for all Yao might think he was sort of dumb and awkward and slow on the uptake, Ivan really did notice a lot.

"Okay, you got me. Fine. I, um-" Yao sighed. "Don't make a big deal about it, but sometimes I get a little anxious? I get anxiety attacks sometimes. Or something, I'm not quite sure. Some nights I just can't sleep and I'll bake for hours instead, even though I have sleeping pills to help me with it."

"I see. So that one time you brought me cookies?"

"Yeah, I need to calm down before I'm over it usually, even if I can sleep. And it takes a long time. Kiku says he's there to help when it happens, but how can he possibly help if he doesn't even accept my account of what his father put me through? And tonight I really just needed to... get out of the apartment, I suppose."

"I understand. Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Well, um..." Yao side glanced at him. "Cuddling would be nice."

"Weren't you just complaining about me being 'touchy feely'?" Ivan laughed, but opened his arm for Yao to snuggle closer.

"Whatever, leave me alone," Yao huffed, wrapping his arms around Ivan's chest and resting his head against Ivan's shoulder.

Of course, by their luck, that was when the oven beeped, telling them that it was done pre-heating.

Yao hopped up and went to the kitchen, popping the tray of brownies into the oven.

"I'm putting them in for fifteen minutes, alright?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't ever bake so you do whatever you need."  
"Of course. I wasn't actually asking for your opinion; I know you can't bake," Yao said with a chuckle, retaking his place on Ivan's side. "So I was thinking, and remember how you were talking about your mother the other day? I want to hear more about her," he said as Ivan put one of his arms around Yao's shoulders.

Ivan smiled a thin, pressed smile at hearing this.

"Oh."

"Please? Since I told you about my family, I thought it would be nice, you know, to hear about your family too. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course," Yao compromised, seeing Ivan's displeased reaction. "Or you can tell me about your father."

Ivan took Yao's guilt-baiting smoothly, opting to ignore the first question altogether, but silently agreeing to give him _something,_ if not what he actually wanted.

"Not much to tell there, about my father. I don't remember him at all. I only remember seeing his coat hung up on the coat rack occasionally. He as always working, even when he was home. He left when my mother was pregnant with Natalya."

"Oh," Yao said. He was at a loss for words. "Sorry."

"Haha, no, I don't mind. I just don't talk about him because there's not much to say. When I was twelve, my mom would try to tell me about him, but she only had one story. They had only been married eight years."

"That's a very short time, isn't it? How old were they?"

"My mother died at forty four. She must've been twenty seven when they got married, then."

"Wait, wait, isn't that old for the time? How'd they meet?"

Ivan sighed. "That's the story she told."

"Then tell it."

"Oh, gosh. Really?" Ivan took a moment to decide where to start. "My mother's family was very wealthy during the Soviet Union. They were a rich family who lived in the country and had a large estate where they employed many workers. My mother was the youngest child, and had three older brothers. My father was the son of her family's chief gardener. Does that make sense? My grandfather would take my father to work with him. Is this making grammatical sense? I can't tell."

"Yeah, you're fine. But let me just make sure I understand? Your mom was rich and your father was a worker on her estate? So they met like that? Like something out of a book?"

"You _would_ compare it to a book, wouldn't you?" Ivan shook his head. "I guess you could say that, sure."

"Oh my gosh, that's just so cute!"

"Yeah, okay. My father proposed to her on his eighteenth birthday. She hesitated, because she was still seventeen, and she was from a rich family who wouldn't take kindly to her marrying outside of her social class. She told him she'd answer him in a few days. Her father found out about the proposal and threatened disowning her f she accepted. In those same few days after his birthday though, he got a draft letter from the Red Army. His family considered fleeing the country for his sake: in those days, a draft was like a death sentence. And if you did die, they family was rarely ever notified. Mothers and siblings would sit for years, waiting for news of their son, and never ever find out what happened."

"Oh my god. Is this real? Did she make it up?" Yao was watching him with big eyes, very caught up in the story.

"They didn't flee, though, and on the day of his departure, she went to him in secret and accepted his engagement ring

"She said she kept it all secret, slyly turning down offers from other men. She ended up having to keep it up for ten years. She explained that she was focusing on her 'ice skating to her father whenever he asked why. Obviously she was lying."

"But what would've happened if he didn't come back? What if he died?" Yao asked nervously.

Ivan shrugged and continued with his story.

"When he did come back, they got married that night, she always said. She also announced it to her father the next morning, expecting him to have changed his mind, or to soften up once he realized he had no say in their relationship. She was wrong. She was cut off and thrown into the street that day, not allowed any of her possessions save what was on her back.

"She had never been poor in her entire life. She was miserable. But, she said, as long as she was with _him_ , it didn't matter." Ivan scoffed under his breath at the last part.

"That's so cute! Wow," Yao smiled and leaned his head back on Ivan's shoulder. Ivan didn't like to think of his parents' relationship as 'cute', and felt the need to correct him.

"Yeah, and she was right, too. It was okay as long as he was there. Except when he _left_ and let her _starve_ and _die_."

Yao stiffened. Ivan's comment was true. Yao shouldn't think of it as cute, because it didn't work out because things rarely ever work out in the real world, no matter how fairytale like they sound. Yao felt sick.

Ivan realized what he did immediately.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Yao started to apologize.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." It wasn't Yao's fault, why did Ivan try to make him feel bad?

"No, maybe I shouldn't have brought them up at all. I-" Yao pulled away, "It's obviously a sore spot for you, I'm sorry."

"Come here," Ivan cut him off firmly, grabbing his arm and beckoning to come back. Yao shook his head and continued rambling.

"No, no. So you saw your father leave. Your Mom was twenty seven when she got married, and died at forty four, you said? And they were married eight years. So he left when she was thirty five? And you must've been at least two or three then. So she died at forty four, nine years later, so you were at least eleven or twelve when she died. Did you, you know, see it? Did you see your Mom die, Ivan? No, don't answer that I need to stop asking you questions."

"Didn't you see _your_ mother die? What's the difference?"

"I was fifteen. And I wasn't actually _there_ , I mean, I was on the phone with my uncle who was there. But you? You were actually...?"

"There? Yeah. Why are you even asking?"

"At, what, eleven?"

"I was thirteen."

"Oh my god, still! You shouldn't have to be, what? What's the word? Exposed? You shouldn't have to be exposed to such cruel things."

" _You_ were four when your Dad died."

" _Yeah,_ but I didn't _see_ it."

"Whatever. It's not like it was the first time I saw someone die. Stop making such a big deal of it."

"What? Oh my god, Ivan, what was the first?"

Ivan shrugged. "The neighbor boy was out skating on the pond when it wasn't cold enough. It was his own fault. I was the one who pulled him out of the ice when it broke."

Yao didn't say anything for a moment.

"How old were you then?"

"Uh, nine or ten?"

"You're kidding me. I can't even fathom it."

"Fathom?" Ivan asked. "What does fathom mean?"

"Um," Yao blinked. "I always forget you're still learning English. Fathom means like, to understand to be able to understand it, I think. I'm not very good at defining things on the spot, sorry."

"I think I understand it."

Yao was still shaken by the thought of a small little Ivan pulling a cold dead body out of the ice. He dropped the subject regardless, glad for the convenient transition Ivan had provided so innocently.

The oven beeped and Yao jumped up. "Oh, let me just go get those!" He ran to the kitchen even though there was no need to rush.

The brownies were slightly burnt, but that was okay for Yao. He always liked crunchier brownies. He hoped Ivan did, too.

"Okay, so we're going to have to let these cool for a bit, alright?" Yao called to Ivan. Ivan didn't answer, so he took that as a 'yes'. "Oh, you know that movie I bought last week? When you were skating? I forgot it at home! How unfortunate."

Ivan didn't answer again.

"Ivan?"

Yao placed the brownies on a cloth and went back to the couch. Ivan was sitting, leaning forward on his elbows. His face was set and serious. When Yao sat beside him and touched his forearm curiously, it seemed to wake Ivan up. He looked at Yao with big eyes and flashed his fake smile.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I must have been thinking elsewhere."

"Are you okay?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm okay."

"Okay, well, you didn't look like you were."

"What do you mean?" Ivan shook his head, "Never mind, didn't you want to, what? Didn't you say cuddle?"

Yao frowned. "Take your big sweater off, loser, it's plenty warm in here."

Ivan looked surprised. "But, I'm not wearing a scarf..."

"I want to see them, if it's okay."

"No you don't; they're ugly," Ivan fiddled with the collar of his sweater.

"Ivan, don't be stupid," Yao teased. "They're not ugly. Nothing could be ugly on you."

Ivan gave him a weathering look. "You're talking nonsense. You must be getting tired."

"Oh, shut up. If it's okay, I'd like you to take your sweater off, okay? If you don't, I guess that's okay," he said, giving Ivan what he hoped was an understanding, supportive look.

Ivan continued to give him that same blank stare, before he sighed. "Really? I don't know. I don't like to talk about it..."

"You don't have to tell me anything."

Ivan scrutinized him for a moment longer before sighing again. " _Fine."_

He leaned forward and pulled the sweater over his head. He wore a tank top underneath, but it exposed his neck and shoulders and it might've been the first time Yao saw his bare arms. And lord, were they impressive. Yao stared at Ian's biceps longer that what is likely considered decent.

"What? What is it?" Ivan asked, putting his hands over his neck consciously.

  
"No, no not that, it's just..." Yao blinked a couple times before continuing, "Your biceps are huge."

"I- what?"

"They're like, bigger than my head- oh my god? How?"

"I, um? I did a lot of work? I don't understand what you mean."

"You must be so strong. How much can you lift?"

"I don't know, like two hundred pounds?"

"Oh my god."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Are you going to stare at me all night or what?"

 _Right,_ Yao thought. _That is not what I came here for._

He grinned and wrapped his arms around Ivan's middle, throwing his legs over Ivan's lap. He nuzzled into the Russian's neck, a hand coming with to touch feathery fingertips along his throat, and Ivan was caught off guard, and shivered at the lightness of the caress.

Yao noticed, of course, and smiled against Ivan's neck, pressing a quick kiss to it.

"Oh," Ivan said without even a thought. The time before, when Yao had kissed Ivan's neck, Yao definitely noticed how much he enjoyed it. It was hard to miss.

"You're cute," he said, kissing higher up Ivan's neck.

"No, you're crazy," Ivan said, putting a hand on Yao's shoulder. Yao wasn't sure if this was meant to be encouraging or not.

"Maybe I am," Yao agreed.

His hand still ran over Ivan's throat, more firmly now. He could feel Ivan's pulse speeding up the more he kissed him. The flesh looked like it should be bumpy with scar tissue, but it was surprisingly smooth.

"These are pretty old, huh?"

"Um, I guess?"

"When are they from?" Yao felt his heart rate go up more.

Ivan didn't like where this was going. "Umm..."

"I won't ask anymore questions, I'm sorry." Yao kissed his cheek in apology.

"Ugh, I think it was fourteen or fifteen, I don't know."

Yao hummed, his finger tracing a scar that dipped lower than the others, down to the base of his shoulder. A couple others chipped away at the top of his collar bones. He didn't want to ask any more questions, but Yao could infer things without asking; like that these were purposefully inflicted over a period of time, that they were fine and barely ever criss-crossing. It looked like they were perhaps carved with a pocket knife.

"So they are pretty old," Yao said at last.

Ivan just nodded.

"Hm, well. You can actually touch me too, you know. You don't have to sit here like a lump on a log."

"Oh, umm, okay," Ivan said awkwardly, moving his second hand. It hovered in the air between them for several long moments. He didn't know where to put his hand.

Yao sighed and grabbed Ivan's hand, placing it on his own hip.  
Yao was completely in Ivan's lap now, lips to his neck again, and Ivan bit his lip to hold in the more embarrassing sounds his throat was trying to make. Not that it really helped.

"It's funny," Yao started between kisses, "how you hate exposing your neck and yet," he said, sucking on the flush behind Ivan's ear, making Ivan whine and get embarrassed, "You get so docile and sensitive when I touch you here." Yao was grinning, Ivan could tell. Ivan just scoffed indignantly under his breath.

"Shut up," Ivan shined.

Yao just laughed and kissed along his jaw. "So, I know you like the neck, but how else do you like it?" he asked conversationally.

"Like? Like what?"

"Um? Being kissed?"

"Oh, uh," Ivan blushed even darker than he had before. "I-"

"Don't be shy, I van, it's not like we're not already kissing."

"Yeah, but I mean- um."

"Yes?"

"Never. I've never kissed –anyone- before."

Yao blinked. "Oh." He paused. "Yeah, that makes sense. Explains a lot."

"What!"

"I mean, you're not that good. I could tell you were _inexperienced_ , just not by _how much_."

"That's rude!"

"No, this is actually better than what I thought, because it means you can still be taught! Don't worry, I'm a good teacher."

Ivan huffed.

Aw, I'm sorry Ivan. The brownies are probably cool by now. Will you forgive my rudeness once you taste my awesome brownies?"

Ivan glared at him. "Only if you dish it up for me."

Yao grinned. "Deal."

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	31. It's Been Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lars! No cigarettes in the building!" Antonio practically shrieked as soon as he saw him.
> 
> Lars gave him a blank stare and shrugged, coolly taking the cigarette and pressing the tip of it to his gloved hand, extinguishing it. He put the butt in his pocket.

Tino announced their official adoption of Peter a few days later. It was also Lars', Berwald's replacement, first day on the job. He made a stunning first impression by being five minutes late, with a cigarette between his teeth.

"Lars! No cigarettes in the building!" Antonio practically shrieked as soon as he saw him.

Lars gave him a blank stare and shrugged, coolly taking the cigarette and pressing the tip of it to his gloved hand, extinguishing it. He put the butt in his pocket.

Antonio gave him a dirty look before shaking his head and calling everyone's attention.

"Everyone, this is my cousin Lars, and he's joining our team in place of Berwald." He then introduced Lars to everyone, pointing out and naming each one.

"Tino... Arthur... Alfred...l Matthias... Sadiq, and Ivan. Sadiq's going to show you the ropes tonight, alright?" Lars shrugged. "Okay, well, you can go ahead and mingle." Antonio nodded awkwardly, and went back to his office.

"When I was younger," Tino started. "My Mom said that the best way to get to know someone new is to give them alcohol. So how do you like it?"

Lars chuckled and shrugged. "What's the hardest stuff you've got." his voice was calm and disinterested, in a nice deep tone. It was a little scratchy from whatever tobacco use he was used to and probably from disuse, seeing how chatty he seemed. Ivan liked him.

Lars took the glass Tino offered and downed it. He nodded, apparently in compliment.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere?" Arthur said, leaning against the bar.

Lars shrugged. "I suppose you might. Do you smoke?"

"Er, not anymore, no."

"Well, I own a smoke shop over in West Seattle. I don't know where else you'd know me from."

"Wait, you own a smoke shop? Then why are you taking this job here?" Alfred asked.

Lars gave him a hard look, almost expecting the question to be a joke. Then he shrugged; "Money."

* * *

Ivan had a book to turn in the next day, so he found himself on the bottom floor of the library.

It was like Yao could sense he was there, because right then, his phone buzzed.

_What're you doing today?_

_I've got work at six tonight, that's all. Are you at the library ?_

_Um, yeah? We can meet somewhere else, though, you don't have to come here._

Ivan smiled and moved toward the stairs. When he reached the level with the tables, eh spotted Yao right away. He was sitting facing away from the stairs; perfect.

Ivan walked as casually as he could muster, keeping his steps light, and came up behind Yao, quickly pressing his hands over Yao's eyes and whispering, "guess who?" in a low voice, hopefully distinct from his regular one.

Yao jumped at first, but then Ivan felt him smile.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

Ivan laughed and took the seat beside him.

"I was actually just turning in a book when you messaged me."

"Isn't that funny. I was wondering if you wanted to go get hot chocolate. It's pretty cold out."

"That sound since, from where?"

"Uh, probably Symposium. It's been forever since I could get in to see Elizaveta, you know? And it's cheaper there. For me, at least."

"That sounds fine. I don't know if I've got money on me, though. You can still enjoy yours though."

"You're going to refuse to let me buy you one, huh?"

"Of course."

Yao sighed. "Fine."

The walk to Symposium was only a little chilly. Elizaveta greeted them warmly when they came in.

"So are you two doing something for Valentine's?" she asked, after Yao ordered.

"Um?" Ivan said, turning to Yao.

"Oh yeah, we are." Ivan looked at him, confused. "I'll tell you later."

"Oh, sorry if I gave anything away!" she said, covering her mouth.

Yao just smiled. "It's... fine." Ivan gave him a questioning look, to which Yao just shook his head. "Can you wait for my drink, Ivan? I'm going to use the bathroom."

Ivan nodded.

He stood by the counter as Lili, the other barista girl, made Yao's hot chocolate.

"Nothing for you, Ivan?" Elizaveta asked. "can I get you a black coffee? Or tea?"

"No thanks. I'm kind of broke."

Elizaveta scoffed. "Oh, please. What do you want? It's on the house. Again. Tell Yao you paid for his, too. He forgot."

"Really? Thank you. I'll have a black tea, then. How did you know I liked it all black?"

"Please, I'm around coffee drinkers twenty four seven. I know my types."

Ivan smiled.

"Right, well, Ill have that right up for you. And here's Yao's hot chocolate," she said, taking the drink from Lili.

"I hope it's good!" the young girl said with an earnest, soft voice. "He can bring it back if he doesn't like it, and I'll remake it." She had big, sweet eyes, and Ivan could tell she said this because she often got complaints about her drinks. Ivan felt bad for her.

"Yes, thank you." He took the drink and set it at an empty table for two, taking off his jacket and sitting down. Yao joined him a moment later, followed by Elizaveta setting down a teapot and mug for Ivan. She pulled a chair over and sat beside them for a moment.

"You notice anything different about the place today?" she asked Yao with an expression. Something must be _very_ different.

"Um? It's quiet, I guess."

"Bingo. Good ol' Roddy's not playing the piano."

"Where is he?"

Elizaveta shrugged. "He left an hour ago without a word."

"That's not like him. What if he gets lost?"

She laughed. "Well, he went yesterday and the day before, too. And that's no all. We've been getting an inordinate number of calls. Whenever _I_ answer them, it's some secretary from a law office asking for Lili. But when _Roderich_ answers it, he doesn't tell me who it is, and he talks for hours. But if it's the same person calling... what lawyer does Roddy know? Our divorce lawyer? She was a total bitch, he wouldn't be having a relationship with her. Plus, she was dirty. He hated her. So what lawyer?"

"Are you suggesting..."

"On top of that, it's the Carpenter-Zwingli law firm."

"Oh my god. Wow." Yao glanced at Ivan, seeing if he understood. Ivan didn't. "Really? Do you think they're just comparing their success or whatever it is they do?"

"Oh come on, they've pretty much silently agreed that Vash's won. Like, for life."

Yao furrowed his brow, "Well, couldn't he be having some lawsuit? Maybe it's purely professional?"

"Then why wouldn't the secretary ask me to give the phone to him? Why would they cover it up with talking to Lili?" Elizaveta replied. "Well, I don't really know what it means, you know? It _could_ be a lawsuit; he's been going through something about a car incident, but I doubt he'd ever turn to Vash for help. I don't know," she shrugged. "Well, I'll let you two alone, anyway." She moved the chair back to where it was, and went back to the counter.

"Valentines? We have plans?"

"Um, yeah. If you're not busy. It's next Friday, right? So yeah, we do."

"What?"

"Well, I was going to tell you today. I've got reservations."

"What! That's like, for a fancy place! You can't pay for that."

"No, shh. It's fine. I haven't had a Valentines date forever. Let me do this, okay? It's fine. It'll be on Kiku's tab, anyway."

"Okay..." Ivan ceded cautiously. He wanted to ask about what other Valentine date he'd had; Yao never really talked about his previous boyfriends, which Ivan found strange; but he refrained. "Are you not going to tell me where we're going, either?"

"Nope. I'm going to drive us there. You're going to be blindfolded. I've decided already."

"You're driving? I didn't think you had a car."

"Well, I'm going to take Kiku's car, yeah. He never has a Valentine anyway."

Ivan frowned but nodded.

"This hot chocolate is really sweet. I like it. Who made it?"

"Lili."

"Oh, that's surprising. She usually makes it too watery, you know. But she's cute, I'll have to tell her it was good."

"Whoa, whoa. You said _I_ was cute. Are you comparing me to her? Oh no, no, no."

"Be quiet, you," he said, standing up. He ran his hand through Ivan's hair, ruffling it before he went to the counter to compliment Lili. Ivan heard her giggle and thank him.

Ivan poured himself some tea. IT smelled really good.

"Don't you think Lili is so cute? But you've never met her brother. Vash, you know? We were just talking about him? I know I've told you about him before. He was in ROTC in high school. He totally would've joined the army after he graduated if not for two reason," Yao said, sipping his drink. Ivan waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"What were the reasons?"

"Oh, well Lili begged him not to, and he had to go to college to prove his superiority over Roderich."

"Seriously? That's why he went through school? Americans are strange and dumb."

Yao laughed. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, reading the text under the table.

_Hey Yao. I'm in town, wondering if you're free?_

It was from an unidentified number.

"What is it?" Ivan asked, trying to lean over and see.

"Oh, nothing, sorry. I just have to reply to this," Yao said, clicking out a message.

_Who is this?_

_You don't have my # anymore? It's Derrichs._

'Shit,' Yao thought. He looked back up at Ivan, who was watching him curiously.

Yao shook it off, he had to act natural. He picked up his cup and drank the last few drops. He smiled at Lili, hoping Ivan didn't ask about the texts.

"You'd better watch yourself or she's going to get a crush on you," Ivan warned with a smile.

Yao rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.

"Oh, shoot! I'm so sorry, but I've got to get to work! Sorry! I'll text you about our date, okay?"

He gave Ivan a quick kiss as he stood and grabbed his own coat.

Ivan smiled and nodded and Yao practically ran out the door.

* * *

Later at work, he found almost everyone talking about Valentines.

"Yeah, Berwald and I are just going to take Peter out for dinner somewhere rather cheap. We really just can't afford much else right now."

Arthur nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I get that. Which is why Alfred's picking up the check. Don't tell _him_ though." The two laughed.

"And what about you, Matt? Have you convinced Lukas to actually go out with you this Valentines day?"

Matthias sighed. "Well, he doesn't want to be seen outside on a 'romantic' night because it's 'embarrassing'."

Arthur and Tino exchanged a look, but Arthur shrugged. "To each their own? No date, then?"

"Oh, no, I'm making dinner at home."

Tino chuckled nervously. "Uh, just don't... ruin the kitchen again. We don't want to repeat last time, do we?"

"Hey! Let's not talk about that!"

Tino saw Ivan's confusion and explained, "The oven burst into flames and the idiot fumbled and called Berwald instead of the fire station so Berwald and I literally got there before the fire truck and put the fire out. He also had to take a month or so to _regrow his eyebrows_. And other hair."

"Let's _not talk about that!"_

"What about you, Ivan?" Tino continued on, smiling at Ivan.

"I guess Yao's taking us somewhere," he shrugged. "I just found out today."

"Oh! That sounds romantic."

Ivan rolled his eyes.

"Yao must like you. I can't remember the last time he did anything for Valentines day, even when he was with someone," Arthur chimed in. Curiously though, as he said this, he wasn't looking at Ivan. "And what about you, Lars? What are your plans?"

Lars shrugged. "Nothing. My sister has a date, so I'll be making sure he's not a creep."

Antonio seemed to have heard that from wherever he'd been, and popped up besides Lars. "You mean, you're going to be _spying_ on Bella?"

Lars pulled a sour face as he turned to his cousin. "First, don't call her that- her name is Manon, not 'Bella'. Second, if you tell her, you're dead to me."

"Wait, really? You're spending Valentines spying on your sister while she's on her date. Ah, amigo, that's-"

Lars cut him off by grabbing both his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.

"If you tell her. You are _dead_ , to me."

* * *

Across town, Yao was getting on the bus home after his day's work.

He'd passed five or six stops already before his phone vibrated. Assuming it'd be from Ivan, he checked it immediately. However, it was from the same unidentified number as earlier.

_So... you have a boyfriend?_


	32. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Alfred," Arthur scolded, "That's a ridiculous insult, first of all. Do you even know any history at all? Second, what is your insult for Francis."
> 
> "Napoleon's army that fell into the British pit at Waterloo."
> 
> Arthur cackled and Francis grinned.
> 
> "Well, depending on your definition of 'British pit', that could be very accurate." He laughed, 'hon hon hon.'
> 
> "Oh my god. You ruined it. You managed to ruin another good thing. Thanks Francis. Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are just burning up wondering who Derrichs is.   
> Don't worry, this won't clear anything up.   
> Enjoy~

Francis and Gilbert hung out with Antonio after closing that night. Yet again, the conversation didn't stray far from Valentines.

"Are you and Lovi doing anything?" Francis smiled lucratively, nudging Antonio.

Antonio shrugged. "You know how he is. If we're doing anything, it'll be last minute. And probably spaghetti."

"How is it that he's so different from his brother? Feliciano made reservations like three months ago."

"How my little brother hooked someone like him, I'll never know," Gilbert said, "Though, of course, he _is_ awesome like me."

Alfred coughed, and it sounded suspiciously like 'Nazi." Arthur hit him. Gilbert glared.

"Listen here, loser-."

"Wait, wait, now. We don't need to spark up any racial tensions. Not again, Alfred."

"Whatever, conquistador."

"I am your _boss!_ "

Romano stifled a laugh in the background.

"Alfred," Arthur scolded, "That's a ridiculous insult, first of all. Do you even know any history at all? Second, what is your insult for Francis."

"Napoleon's army that fell into the British pit at Waterloo."

Arthur cackled and Francis grinned.

"Well, depending on your definition of 'British pit', that could be very accurate." He laughed, 'hon hon hon.'

"Oh my god. You ruined it. You managed to ruin another good thing. Thanks Francis. Thank you."

Francis just winked.

"For all interested, my Valentines day will be spent with the lovely Matthew," he announced proudly.

"No one cares, Francis," Gilbert jabbed, laughing obnoxiously.

"Say the guy who doesn't even have a date at all."

"Pfft, whatever. I don't care. Doesn't bother the awesome me! Who needs a date? Only losers like all of you."

"Oh, whatever Gilbert."

Lars joined the conversation by leaning up on the bar beside Ivan.

"I still can't believe you're spying on your sister." Antonio shook his head.

"I told you to shut up about it."

Antonio just shook his head some more. "Wow."

"I was thinking," he said, turning to Ivan, "You and I should go get a drink."

"Why were you thinking that?" Arthur intervened.

"Lars shrugged, "He's Russian, I'm Dutch. Why not?"

"You know who could probably use a drink? Tino. Suddenly finding himself a father of a toddler and all- Peter, none the less. You should buy him a drink."  
  
"Whoa, whoa I never said I was _buying_ anyone drink."

"Sounds like fun!" Tino said, "I'll just have water- it's been forever since I've hung out with Ivan. Let's go!"

"Um I don't have a car."

"Then you can go with Tino, right?" Arthur said.

"Or you could come with me," Lars offered.

"I'm sure he's fine withing going with Tino."

"Yeah, we can follow you, then," Tino said.

"Fine, let's go."

The three of them filed out.

Alfred turned to Arthur as soon as they were gone, "So, what was that about?"

"I remember when I recognized Lars from. It's probably best to not be alone with him."

"Now wait a second," Antonio objected. "I know my cousin has something of a history- a record, some may say- but that was a long time ago and it's all legal now anyway-"

"No, I mean for _Ivan_ not to be alone with him," Arthur clarified. "Wasn't his sister in culinary school like six years ago?"

* * *

The place Lars took them turned out to be a small, cheap pub in the industrial area.

Tino ordered a water, Ivan a vodka, and Lars ordered, as quoted, "Whatever's cheapest."

"Tell me about Berwald; I'm replacing him, right?"

"Haha, yeah. He's my fiance, actually. We just adopted a son, Peter; he's Arthur's youngest brother," Tino chatted. "We've dated like six years."

"Six years? How did you two even meet?" Ivan asked. "I've never heard the story."

"Oh, well, it's kind of funny, you know. He's a few years older than me, right? He went through university in Minneapolis and was offered a job here, so he came out. I came to America from Finland as soon as I graduated, figuring I wanted to see a bit of the world before I settled down at an office job," he said, fiddling with his drink.

"One of my high school friends was supposed to come with me, but they bailed out last second. I still wanted to follow through, though. I arrived in New York three days after my eighteenth birthday with three thousand in cash.

"It was really fun for the first month, but sort of lonely. A woman was giving away puppies for free in front of a Wal Mart in Chicago, and that's how I got Hana Tomago. I thought I'd drive to Seattle or Los Angeles and get a flight back home. I was in Seattle, as some fish market- I think it was in Ballard, and I met Lukas there. He works at the waterways up there, you know?"

"I don't know that," Ivan said. He didn't know where Ballard was, either, but he didn't ask for clarification. Ivan noticed Lars looked bored.

"Yeah, so by extension, that's how I met Matthias, too. They brought me to the best Nordic restaurants and pubs. I liked them, so I stayed longer in Seattle. My mom was starting to ask when I'd be coming home. I thought I'd leave the next week. I went to one of those pubs alone one day, though, and Berwald was there. Did I mention about Matt making me a fake ID so I could get into the bars? Good friend.

"Anyway, I met Berwald there. He didn't say anything at first, just sat beside me and ordered a beer. He tried making small talk but it was actually just very terrifying for me; you know, I was eighteen, in a bar, alone, in a foreign country, about five thousand miles away from home and this scary older man was flirting with me." Tino turned to Lars, "It was because he always has this angry expression, it's like his face is frozen in it. But don't let that fool you; he's a teddy bear."

Ivan suppressed a smile- he remembered first meeting Berwald, and it really was scary. Even for Ivan, who was the same size as him. He couldn't imagine small, eighteen year old Tino first meeting him.

"Well, I was trying to think of an excuse to leave because I was uncomfortable, so I said my friend was calling me. I put my phone to my ear and started talking. Then Matt called me. I twas so embarrassing.

"Of course, that hurt his feelings and even I could tell, even though I didn't really know him. I felt so bad I gave him my number and said bye. He called me the next day and we went on a date and I kind of... I mean, I knew? You know what I mean? It was a pity date at first but then we started talking and it just clicked. We've been together ever since. I stayed in America for another two solid months. I got a job bar tending with my fake ID and applied for an American citizenship. It's crazy to think that that was, what? Just six years ago?" he sighed.

"Wait, how old are you again?" Ivan asked.

"Well, the United States government thinks I'm twenty seven. I'm actually twenty four, though," he said with a mischievous grin.

"And how long have you worked at the club?"

"Um, four? Don't tell Antonio."

"Wow. You could go to jail if anyone reported you," Lars said. Ivan couldn't tell if Lars was concerned or impressed.

"Oh, please, my mother's even in on it. She altered my birth certificate officially and everything."

"Wow," Lars said again. "And you, Ivan? How'd ya meet your steady."

"He means boyfriend." Tino explained.

"Oh. At the library."

Lars gave Ivan a look, closed his eyes and shook his head, smirking. "That's just- of course. So you like to read or what?"

"Not really, no. I don't know." Ivan shrugged.

"And his name? It's... Yao?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you dated him?"

"Oh, two moths?" Maybe two and a half."

"Hm," Lars sat quietly for a moment.

"And you own a smoke shop, you said?" Tino asked.

"Oh, sure, yeah. Really high quality stuff. Opened just about a year ago."

"A year ago?" Like, when marijuana was legalized?"

"Ha, you're an observant one," Lars almost grinned. "But don't mix up businessmen like me with the smugglers and crooks, you know? I'm sick of those misconceptions."

"Of course not. I've been to Holland, I know the Dutch aren't about bad business. Not with drugs, at any rate. Your name _is_ Dutch, right?"

"Yes, grew up around more windmills and wooden shoe tourist souvenirs that I want to think about."

"And where was your sister born? In the Netherlands too?"

"Nah, Pennsylvania."

Tino nodded. "So you know Dutch?"

"Enough for business reason. I import some Dutch cigars; they give you better deals when they don't think you're American."

Tino laughed and Ivan smiled.

* * *

Yao didn't respond to the last text for two days. He didn't know what to say. He still couldn't believe that 'Derrichs' had the nerve to contact him after all this time. If Yao said yes, would Derrichs be angry? Why does he even care?

Finally, he decided to answer indirectly. _What would it matter to you?_ Hopefully that would deter further questions.

Valentines was just around the corner and he didn't need this looming over his date with Ivan.

Yao turned his attention to the anime that Kiku was watching.

"Do you know what you're doing Friday?" Yao asked Kiku.  
He shrugged. "I might go to Herakles' party. White single people get depressing on Valentines day though, so I might not."

"Herakles is single now?"

"Well-"

"On second thought, I don't really care."

Kiku nodded. He understood completely.

"So why are you acting so strange?" Kiku asked bluntly.

"Whatever do you mean! Do not ask such strange questions."  
Kiku shot him a look but dropped it.

Yao's phone vibrated. He stood and went to his room.

It was from Derrichs.

 _I'm sorry_.

* * *

When Ivan got home, he logged onto Skype.

There were a lot of notices from Natalya over the last week or two.

_Toris also got into UW. We'll be flying out together._

_Toris has relatives that we can stay with when we get there._

_You don't have to buy my plane ticket, okay?_

_I'm so excited to see you._

_Toris bought our tickets today. We'll be coming in August._

_Do you know where MIT is?_

_I'm asking because my friend Eduard got in there. Could we visit him?_

_His scholarship is nearly full ride!_

_It's weird you won't be here when I graduate_.

Ivan was very excited for his little sister, reading all of these messages. The last one made him falter a moment, though.

He hadn't even thought about Natalya's graduation. He was going to miss it. There was no way he'd be able to go.

He pushed that thought away, though. This wasn't the time to be sad.

He was also glad that he wouldn't have to pay for her ticket- her own had cost them an arm and a leg. But he was wary of this 'Toris' she kept mentioning. That name did not sound Russian.

 _Where is Toris from?_ he asked before logging out.

* * *

Yao stared at the phone for a minute. 'I'm sorry.'

"What are you sorry for?" he asked no one. He glared at it now. HE bit his lip and furrowed his brow. He felt like screaming and crying all at once. A maelstrom of old emotions were welling up after so many years.

Was he sorry for asking if Yao had a boyfriend? Was he sorry for talking to him at all? Was he sorry for how things happened all those years ago? How'd he even find out about Ivan? Yao balled his hand into a fist.

He wanted to talk to someone, now. He wanted to sit and vent and maybe have a drink. He'd kill for a cigarette, now he thought about it. Four little messages from Derrichs made him want to give up all the work he'd accomplished since the last time he saw him.

But if he turned to talk to Kiku, all he'd get was a lecture. He definitely didn't want to bring Ivan into it, because then he'd have to explain so much.

He sent a text to Arthur asking if Alfred was home.

_No, why?_

_Can I come over?_

_Sure?_

Yao told Kiku he was going out. Kiku was still engross in his anime.

* * *

"He seriously asked that? And he wanted to know if you were 'free'?" Arthur asked incredulously. He had poured them both a glass of rum, and Yao's was half gone already.

"I can't believe it. He's such a jerk. He hasn't talked to me since _then_ , after he left in the _middle of dinner_. How rude."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. That was just a horrible time."

"Like, that was so long ago; you were even still dating Francis!"

"Like I said, that was just a horrible time."

Yao sighed to hide a laugh. He was _angry_ , he could laugh at a time like this. "If I ran into him, I'd give him a piece of my mine, you know? How dare he talk to me. Just- I can't even believe it."

Arthur nodded and patted his back reassuringly. "I know."

"And- you know how I felt about him! _He_ knew it too! I still just- what if Ivan turns out the same way?" Yao stopped right there. He floundered.

"Hey, don't say that. Ivan's a good guy, right?"

Yao shook his head and put a hand over his eyes.

"He'd say, what? He'd said he was still young and didn't want to be 'tied down'. Ivan's so young, too, what if he thinks I'm just holding him back?"

"Only Ivan knows what he thinks, right? Speculating is useless."

Yao nodded, but then shook his head. "A lot of things I do are useless. Why do I bother trying to cook anymore? I'm never going to be a chef. I'll never go back to culinary school," he breathed as he set his forehead on Arthur's arm. "I don't want to go on my date with Ivan anymore. I should break up with him. He'd be better off with someone else."

"No, don't you say that! Yao, you listen here. I don't even know how to get this through your thick skull- you're amazing, okay? Why do you think I'd bother being friends with you, otherwise?"

"Seeing your choice of boyfriends, I don't know if you're the right person to be asking that."

"Okay, touche; but look, that was clever. You're clever."

Yao rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"No, okay, listen up. You and I have gone through rough patches, right? I was there through all of your worse... _relationship_ , and even when you refused to get out of bed for three days after a breakup, I still came and forced you to eat something other than ice cream. I've stayed friends with you through thick and thin because I think you're worth keeping as a friend, and if you think I have bad judgment for that, then I am personally offended. Not only do you insult me, you insult my _friend,_ and therefore I am doubly insulted. Okay?"

Yao frowned sullenly but nodded. "Okay," he said in a small voice.

"Good." Arthur stood and patted Yao on the cheek. "Now, no more booze. I'll call Kiku to pick you up later. Meanwhile, I've found Alfred's stash of donuts I told him not to buy. We also have a season of Downton Abbey to watch. Okay?"

Arthur hadn't the heart to tell Yao what he knew about Derrichs, or how he had found out about Ivan, so he didn't bring it up, just scooted him off toward the couch in the living room. He could cross that bridge when he got to it.


	33. So Dramatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This night is a train wreck. First I get lost and Elizaveta doesn't answer her phone to help me, then she's cheating on me with Beilschmidt, now this? Happy V-Day to me."
> 
> "V for virgin? Like you? Loser," Gilbert snickered.

Circes' Island closed early on Valentines night- about eleven o'clock. The place Yao had reserved for was a starlit glass ceiling restaurant, anyway, so they were open all night and he could push his reservation back an hour or two. Yao was going to pick Ivan up from the club.

Arthur knew this, and suggested Ivan wait outside so Yao wouldn't have to come in. "It'd be quicker that way," he said.

Lars was smoking outside. He nodded to Ivan when he came out.

Shortly after, though, Arthur followed Ivan out, to go to his own car with Alfred.

"Oh, there you are Lars. I think Antonio was just looking for you? He's in his office."

Lars nodded, put out his cigarette on the ground, and went back inside.

Yao arrived a moment later, in Kiku's shiny Kia. Ivan climbed into the passenger side.

"Put the blindfold on," Yao said with a grin.

"Aw, but I get motion sickness."

Yao rolled his eyes. "Fine, then just cover your eyes, okay? No peaking."

Ivan smiled and did so (he totally peaked though).

They pulled up in front of a nice looking stone building. In a pretty, cursive script the sign read 'Europa'.

"Come on, let's go."

"Am I dressed nice enough?" Ivan asked, peering down at his jeans and t-shirt.

Yao shrugged. "Just put this sweater on, I guess," Yao threw him a tan pullover and Ivan pulled it over his head.

The restaurant was packed. Every table had a couple sitting at it with a candle flicking between. The ceiling, Ivan was amazed to see, was all glass, and vines grew upward and around the edge of the huge window. They were led to a center table.

"This place looks really expensive," Ivan commented.

"Don't worry about it," Yao said. "They have cuisine from all over Europe. Baklava, bratwurst, escargot. Order what you like.. .Kiku's friend Feli suggested the Venetian wine."

"I don't really drink wine," Ivan said.

Yao laughed. "Of course. Maybe they have vodka?"

An older man walked past them, toward the restroom, bringing Yao's gaze up and across from them.

He did a double take.

"Eliza?" he asked loudly, to the woman at the table near them.

Ivan looked too, and sure enough, there sat Elizaveta, in a nice green dress, alone at the table.

"Yao? Oh, um, hi." She smiled and waved. "Fancy seeing you two here." She seemed uncomfortable.

"Who are you here with?" Yao asked.

"Oh? No one. Just, um, by myself. Wanted to treat myself." She smiled, trying to be convincing. Yao didn't buy it.

"There's a coat on the chair across from you."

"Yeah, _my_ coat."

"It's blue. You never wear blue. Is it Roderich's?" Yao gasped. "Are you two together again?"

"No! No, I, um, I stole that jacket. From Roderich. Really hate that guy, you know?"

Yao scoffed.

Conveniently, just at that moment, none other than Roderich appeared beside Elizaveta.

"Elizaveta! Here you are! Why were you not answering any of my calls?"

"Roderich? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I went to the store and got lost for an hour and a half no thanks to you!"

"So? I'm not you babysitter."

Yao watched this with wry amusement.

"Please, you guys can drop the act. I'm glad you're trying it again."

"What are you talking about?" Roderich asked. "Why are _you_ here, too?"

"What is this? Edelestein? What the hell is this loser doing here, Liza?" Gilbert asked, sitting down across from Elizaveta.

"Gilbert?" Roderich all but cried. "You're here, cheating on me, _with Gilbert ?_ "

Yao and Ivan glanced at each other, both rather shocked, as a waiter tried to ask the three to quiet down.

"Ah, Miss Elizaveta?" a soft voice came from behind the poor overwhelmed waiter. "You forgot your phone at Symposium."

"Lili?" How'd you get here?" Elizaveta asked when the small blond girl became visible.

Yao shot another glance at Ivan; he was grinning. This was possibly even better than his television dramas.  
"Big brother brought me."

"Vash is here?" Elizaveta and Roderich asked in unison, though Roderich sounded more upset than Elizaveta.

"Yeah," a disdainful, masculine voice came from beside Lili, from a man who looked strikingly similar to her but with a serious, detached face rather than her soft, warm expression.

Then Vash became aware of just who was all there. "Oh god, Lili, you didn't say Edelstein was here."

"What difference is it, big brother?" she asked with big eyes.

He just sighed irritably.

"Hey, it's not like your ugly face is exactly a pleasant surprise either, cheapskate."

"Don't start this, _Austrian_."

"This night is a train wreck. First I get lost and Elizaveta doesn't answer her phone to help me, then she's cheating on me with _Beilschmidt_ , now this? Happy V-Day to me."

"V for virgin? Like you? Loser," Gilbert snickered.

"Oh my god Roderich!" Elizaveta exclaimed, standing to look him more directly in the eye. "We are divorced! I am not cheating on you! I can do whatever I want! Why don't you go make out with Vash or something? You're ruining my date."

"What!" Roderich and Vash sputtered.

Yao was practically bouncing in his seat. Ivan felt embarrassed for all of them.

"Go on, get out, both of you. At least Gilbert doesn't make such a dramatic production of _every little thing_ , you children."

"I'm a child? In comparison with... _Gilbert?_ " Gilbert was grinning as Roderich pointed at him incredulously. "I'll never live down the shame. I'm leaving."

Vash glanced between an angry Elizaveta and Roderich's retreating back. Lili giggled at the perturbed and stricken face on her brother.

"Wait," he called gruffly, walking after Roderich at a brisk pace. Lili giggled and sat beside Elizaveta, who was fixing her hair. "I think he forgot I'm with him."

"That was exciting," Yao whispered to Ivan. The restaurant seemed silent after that show.

Their waitress came by shortly thereafter- she was the one who was trying to calm down that German fiasco. She looked dazed.

"I'll have the shrimp paella," Yao said.

Ivan hadn't looked at the menu, so he quickly flipped through to the Russian entrees. "Are the piroshkis good here?"

"Well, I'm not Russian, but I liked them. If you're wary, you can try to 'taste of Russia'; it's a combo with piroshki and some soups and comes with a shot of special vodka."

Ivan nodded, that sounded fine to him.

The waitress left with their order.

There was a commotion to the right of them, maybe twenty yards across the floor. It looked like a rather young couple was having a rough date.

"You're breaking up with me?" a redheaded man spoke loudly at his young blond girlfriend.

She was speaking much quieter than him. She seemed very calm.

Some of the waiters, concerned once again, moved towards the couple, warning him not to do something rash.

"You can't just say that... I can't take that. Not on Valentines Day!" He grabbed her wrist and everyone watching cringed as he tried to pull her toward the door. She yanked her arm back and grabbed her water, throwing it in his face. He sputtered and dropped her arm and tried to wipe his face off angrily. A man sitting a booth down from the couple had stood and moved toward him, apparently to protect the girl from further harm.

The man grabbed the boyfriend's shoulder and punched him in the face. There was a general gasp from the audience.

"Valentines Day can be so dramatic," Yao said quietly. Ivan was somewhat taken aback by just how many fights he'd seen so far, only a half hour into their date.

The boyfriend was on the ground, clutching his nose. The other man leaned down next to him and whispered something to him- probably a warning.

The girl watched with an unsurprised, unperturbed expression. She had a cat-like, lazy smile. She was pretty, with wavy hair and a black hairband. She was a cute curvy thing, maybe five foot five.

"Hey, I know that girl- I was in culinary with-" Yao cut himself off as the man who had protected her stood up, "-her." The man was Lars. "Shit. Look down."

Ivan saw him too, and was confused with Yao's sudden change. He looked at him questioningly, but Yao didn't make eye contact, studying the dessert menu instead.

"Do you know Lars, Yao?"

"What, do you?" Yao asked, shocked.

Someone brought the poor boyfriend, who was still lying on the ground, an icepack, and Lars beckoned his sister to leave with him. She linked arms with him happily and they moved toward the exit together.

Ivan, apparently, made the mistake of looking up as they passed their table. Lars saw him and stopped.

"Ivan," he nodded. Then he realized something, it seemed, because his eyes widen and he dropped his sister's arm. He glanced at the seat opposite Ivan.

"Yao," he greeted, his voice shocked and softer than how he'd acknowledged Ivan.

Yao was frozen for a moment before he responded, smiling a large, toothy smile. "Lars, Bella, you both look well."

Ivan was confused. Lars and Yao were acting so weird. They knew each other?

Lars nodded, still in shock. "You look... good as well."

Ivan didn't let it slip hi mind that Lars didn't correct Yao on his use of 'Bella' instead of 'Manon' when addressing Lars' sister, even when he vehemently corrected his own cousin.

Bella, through all of this, hung back and kept watching them all with that cat smile. Ivan glanced between Yao and Lars awkwardly.

"Thank you. Apparently, you already know my boyfriend, Ivan."

Lars glanced and Ivan, nodding almost sadly. "Yeah, yeah he's a good coworker."

"Coworker?" Yao asked, quirking an eyebrow at Ivan. Ivan nodded, still so confused.

"Yeah. Well, I'll let you two get to dinner." Lars glanced down and turned away quickly, leaving with Bella in a flash. That was out of character for him, as far as Ivan knew. The air Lars left behind was awkward and quiet. Yao stared at his water.

Their food came then, and they were silent as they ate. Yao didn't look at Ivan.

When they finished, Ivan wanted to start a conversation. Gilbert and Elizaveta has left a long time ago, offering Lili a ride hope. Maybe Yao would start to speculate about how long they had been dating.

When he was about to say something, however, Yao cut him off.

"Isn't Derrichs such a stupid name? It's spelled D-E-R-R-I-C-H-S, not D-E-R-E-K-S like it sounds. Isn't it so ugly?"

Ivan didn't understand where this was coming from.

"I... guess?"

"In the language it's from, you say it with that ugly, throaty, German 'ch' sound. I think, at least. I've heard it like that. Does Dutch have that sound? It's been so long since I've spoken it. I'd been fluent a few years ago."

"I don't know."

Yao shook his head. "Anyway. I think we should order dessert. Something with a lot of chocolate."

"Okay."

"Wasn't that crazy with Roderich and everything?" Yao said suddenly with a big smile and a fake laugh.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose." Ivan said, unsure of what to say.

"Does this chocolate cake look god. I'll order a slice- I think it'll be enough to share."

Ivan nodded again. Yao could do whatever he wanted.

When the waitress came and took their plates, Yao ordered the cake and the Venetian wine. It came with a cooler and the waitress popped it open right there for them.

Yao filled his own glass and put a little into Ivan's, too.

"You have to at least try it," Yao explained.

Ivan took the glass to sip out of it. It was bitter, like how cranberry juice can be bitter. Which made sense, obviously, since grape juice was um-fermented wine. It was a bitterness that was different than the vodka Ivan was accustomed to. His lips puckered a little. He expected Yao to notice and poke fun at him, but he didn't. Yao stared at his wine glass before taking a drink from it.

"I think we should take that cake to go, actually. I'm tired and my brother's out for the night with Herakles." Yao said ash refilled the glass.

"Maybe you should slow down on the wine?" Ivan said, taking the bottle from Yao and setting it in the cooler.

Yao scoffed. "I'm fine, okay"

"I didn't say you weren't."

Yao sighed. "Ask the waitress for the check, alright? I'm going to the bathroom." Ivan didn't get a chance to nod before Yao was gone. Ivan was uneasy with how Yao had been acting.

And seriously, how'd he know Lars?

The waitress came and Ivan asked if they could have the check, and for the slice of cake to be boxed.

Ivan sat there awkwardly for a moment, waiting for Yao to come back.

The waitress must've thought Yao left him because she kept giving him pitying glances.

Ivan didn't know when it happened, but suddenly Lars' little sister, Bella, occupied the seat across from him, giving him that eerily pleasant, cat-like smile.

"Hello," she said greeted him as if it was normal that she just appeared there. "You're Yao's boyfriend, that's cute."

"Um..." Ivan looked around. Where'd she come from? "Didn't you leave already?"

"Lars is acting weird ad I work here," she shrugged.

"Oh." He wanted to ask what she wanted, but that was rude.

"I wanted to say sorry for Lars just now. That was awkward. I could tell you didn't know what was going on."

"Oh."

"It's not my place to be telling all my brother's stories, of course. But I'm sorry he was dumb and probably ruined your date," she beamed despite her words.

"Oh," Ivan said again. "That's okay."

"Okay. And if I remember how Yao was, you might want to go check on him," she said as she stood.

"Wait, how he was when? How do you know him? "

She smiled wider, " _I_ know him from culinary school. Have a nice night."

Ivan, daze, collected himself and went to the bathroom.

* * *

When Yao got to the washroom, he splashed water on his face.

"'He's a good coworker'? What the fuck?" Yao said to himself as he dried his face. That mean either Lars worked at Circe's' Island, or Ivan had a side job that Yao didn't know about.

But Yao had just seen Arthur the day before, and he hadn't said anything about Lars working at the club.

Yao took out his phone and dialed Arthur's number. When Arthur answered, his voice was hushed like he was in a restaurant.

"Yes? I'm eating dinner with Alfred, what is it?"

"You didn't tell me he worked at the club, you bastard."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Derrichs! Lars! You didn't tell me a thing! No warning at all! I didn't know that Ivan knew him!"

"Shit, I'm sorry, what's happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? It was so awkward. I can't believe that you _knew_ and you didn't tell me."

"Oh my god, did you see him? What happened? I didn't know he was going to be there or I would've-"

"You should've told me, that's what you should've done. I can't believe it. And what, is he friends with Ivan now?"

Arthur began sputtering out a response, but Yao cut him short.

"No, okay, I trusted you and you didn't even tell me this one simple thing. I'm hanging up."

"No-!"

Yao put his phone back in his pocket. He wasn't interested in whatever excuses his 'friend' had. He was just upset.

The door to the bathroom opened but Yao didn't react because chances were it was just another patron.

Of course, as soon as he assumed that, Ivan was standing next to him, peering at him curiously in a way he thought was subtle.

"Yes?" Yao asked, a bit snippy.

"Oh, um, are you alright? You've been in here for a while."

"I'm fine. Did the check come? I'll go pay."

Yao went back to the table. The bottle of wine was corked and a little white box, presumably the cake, was on the table. Yao was putting his coat on.

"So you're coming to my place right? To eat the cake."

Ivan shrugged and nodded. The waitress came by and gave Yao his card and receipt.

"Okay, let's go." Yao took the box and the bottle and they went out to his car in the front.

When they got into the car, there was a note under the windshield wiper on the driver's side. Yao pulled it out and read it, stared at it for another moment before smiling widely at Ivan and ripping it to shreds.

Ivan didn't ask.


	34. Lyubov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Have you ever read of these? I had this book as a kid. A lot of it went over my head then, though. I was wanting to reread one of these... wonder if it's here..." Lars said conversationally, flipping through the pages.

When they got to Yao's apartment, Yao took out plates and sliced the piece of cake in half. They sat on the couch to eat. Ivan glanced over at Yao, who turned on the TV. IT was a Chinese drama about the Qing dynasty. Ivan couldn't understand any of it.

"So how's work been?" Yao asked casually.

"Oh," Ivan said, for once surprised that Yao started the conversation. "I suppose it's different, since Berwald left. A little more talkative, with, erm, Lars in place of Berwald. Not _much_ more talking, per se, but a bit more."

Yao nodded.

"And Antonio talks with us all a lot more than he used to. He and his cousin must have gone through some tough times or something, huh?"

Yao hummed.

"Do you want to watch that on movie? From the ice rink?"

"Sure," Ivan nodded. Yao put their plates in the sink and went to get it from his room.

It was an anime (of course,) _Howl's Moving Castle._

Yao popped the movie in and plopped beside Ivan. As the previews rolled, Yao adjusted Ivan's arms around him until he was comfortable, his head pillowed against Ivan's bicep.

Ivan couldn't pay attention to the movie, too preoccupied with Yao, whose hand kept moving over Ivan's thigh and arm. It was distracting.

He glanced at Yao. He was enjoying the movie, but he still looked worried from earlier. Ivan frowned at the crease between Yao's brows that wasn't usually there.

Ivan had no idea what the tension between Yao and Lars was about. It seemed like they hadn't seen each other in a long while. They acted politely, and Yao knew his sister from culinary school.

And Lars' sister came back and apologized for 'ruining their date'. What does that mean?

Ivan pondered this for a while as the movie played. About halfway through, Yao sighed and threw his legs onto the couch and scooted so he could rest his head on Ivan's lap.

"Play with my hair," Yao said after a moment of Ivan's silent hesitation of where to put his hands.

Ivan ran his fingers through Yao's hair, and Yao undid his ponytail so Ivan had more access.

Ivan hadn't been keeping track of the plot of the movie, which was probably over halfway done now.

He decided to try for the last twenty minutes, though, and then he'd ask Yao about the Lars ordeal. He didn't think of it again as he pet Yao and tried to make sense of the movie.

"Wasn't that a great movie?" Yao asked as it finished and the credits rolled. He got up to take the DVD out of the player and put it in the case.

"Yeah," Ivan said, even though he really didn't understand any of what had happened.

"What your dinner good? Mine was great," Yao asked as he put the DVD case back onto the shelf.

"It was good, but still not as good as home... .Maybe when Natalya comes, I can ask her to pack some Russian sweets so you know what real Russian food tastes like."

"Oh? She's coming? Did she get into University of Washington then?"

"Oh, yeah, did I not tell to be when Ivan would be bringing up Lars, but now it just felt awkward to interrupt the natural flow of conversation.

"I can't wait to meet her."

"Yeah. She's coming with a friend, too, I guess. I don't remember meeting him."

"Him? You think they're dating, don't you?"

"What? I'm not concerned with that. Natalya can take care of herself," Ivan said, rubbing his neck. That _was_ one of his concerns, of course, but telling Yao might make himself look controlling or something.

"Please, you're a big brother, of course you're concerned. But look, he's also going to be going to the University, right? They must be very close friends. High school sweethearts almost never go to school together. You're safe."

"Yeah, that's a good point."

Yao nodded. They couldn't say anything more on the topic, so they were quiet for a time.

Yao was smiling strangely. Ivan furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You're wondering about Lars, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"I'll explain another time, alright? I'm the one that brought it up, I know, but I _will_ explain, okay?"

Ivan nodded.

"For now, are you ready for bed? Or do you want to go home? I have your sweatpants you can sleep in, from that one time. I keep forgetting to return them."

"That's convenient, thank you. I'll stay here. It's too dark to go home right now. I can sleep on the couch. But is Kiku going to be home?"

Yao looked at the time. "It's two in the morning right now. It looks like he'll be home in the morning. And why would you be sleeping on the couch, silly? Are you a middle schooler? You'll be sleeping in my bed."

"Oh."

Yao grinned. He leaned up and kissed Ivan. "I'm surprised we got through the whole movie, actually. Did not want to kiss me?"

"What? Did you want me to?"

"Gosh, you're clueless." Yao grabbed the back of Ivan's head and pulled him to lean over Yao and kissed him. Yet again, Yao was sitting on Ivan's lap, his arms on either side of Ivan's head.

Yao took control of the kiss, giggling softly as Ivan opened his mouth with a sigh.

"You should participate more, you know," Yao said between kisses, quick pecks he pressed to Ivan's mouth.

"Oh. Okay."

Ivan tried to 'participate', moving his lips as best he could against Yao's, but he didn't know how to. Yao just laughed and Ivan felt very self-conscious.

"Never mind, just let me- here," Yao pushed Ivan down onto the couch and straddled his hips. He pecked Ivan's lips as he pushed his sweater and t-shirt up on his chest. He ran his cool hands over Ivan's warm torso, making him shiver.

In the light of the television, Yao could see that Ivan's pupils were blown and his eyes were wide and cheeks were flushed so cutely.

"Lean up, take your shirt off."

Ivan sat up enough for Yao to pull the shirt over his head and throw it over the back of the couch.

"Um, Yao?" Ivan asked nervously.

"Yes Ivan?" he asked in return, pressing wet kisses down Ivan's neck.

"Um..." Ivan didn't know what to say. "Do you have to work in the morning?" Honestly, he was grabbing at air, trying to find an excuse to just go to bed. He felt embarrassed, trying to cut it all short. He didn't want to disappoint Yao, saying that he wasn't ready to go much further, but at the same time he _didn't want to go any further_.

"I could call in late, it's fine," Yao said flippantly before realizing why Ivan was asking.

"Oh."

"But we could go to bed anyway. Or kiss a little bit more and then go to bed. I'm tired." Yao wasn't tired, but he'd play the part to relieve embarrassment from Ivan.

"Okay."

Yao smiled and kissed Ivan's lips again for a moment, before following the scars on Ivan's collar bones with quick kisses and fleeting tongue, hands falling on Ivan's hips.

"You should take your shirt off, too," Ivan said, his breath coming just barely faster than usual, but enough that Yao noticed. He grinned to himself.

"Of course, don't want to be left out." He sat back on Ivan's thighs and pulled his shirt off in one go.

Ivan swallowed at the sight, even though it wasn't a new one. Yao was almost thirty years old; how was it possible that he still looked _this_ good?

"Well? Did you want me to strip just so you could look at me, or what?"

Ivan huffed. "Don't be so rude." He rubbed his neck and looked away. "Could you... show me how to?"

"Of course. Hand on my hip, first of all," he said, guiding Ivan's hand there. "Then you kinda just, freestyle."

"That doesn't help much."

Yao chuckled, "Here, like this." He took Ivan's hand and put it flat against his chest. He encouraged Ivan to move his flat palm down over his stomach. "Just saying, I really like my hands being touched, too. Take that to your grave you can't tell anyone. It's our weird little secret."

"What, like in a _sexual_ way? How do you touch hands like that."

"Well, platonically too, whatever. Like how you like your neck to be touched" Yao shrugged.

"What? I do not-"

"Please, Ivan. For living in your body, you really know nothing about it. Look, don't act differently, just react normal."

Yao stroked fingertips over Ivan's neck, going up to his earlobe and stroking all the way down to his collar bone.

Ivan shuddered slightly. He didn't noticed but his breathing slowly and his eyes were lidded as Yao continued to run his finger over the same path for a few seconds.

"Case closed. You don't like people _seeing_ your neck, but you like to be touched there. Two different things, you see?"

Ivan opened his eyes wide again and frowned. "It might be that you have a point. Maybe."

"So, yeah, my hands and also my lower back. A little weird, but whatever."

"Wait, so how? How does that feel good?"

Yao shrugged. "I like massages," he said, winking. "I don't know. You'll have to find out, I suppose," he grinned.

"Oh." That meant actually having to touch Yao. "Eventually, yeah."

Ivan could tell Yao wanted to do a bit more, but was relieved when Yao said, "Alright. Do you want to go to bed then? I'll go get you those sweats," and rolled off him to get ready for bed.

They changed in Yao's bedroom. For Ivan, the experience of entering Yao's room for the first time was rather surreal. There was a double sized bed with a red and yellow duvet. Everything else was panda themed or books. He had a desk, where books were stacked dangerously high, a panda paperweight on top of them all. He had a stuffed panda bear on his bed.

"Oh, haha, this is awkward. Let me just reshelf these," Yao said, picking up as many books as he could and shoving them onto a bookshelf right next to the desk.

"Why do you have so many books out on your desk?"

Oh, well, I remembered reading a poem about dragons last night. I couldn't remember all of it though and I couldn't remember where it was from."

"So you took out twenty books, trying to find one poem again." It wasn't even a question. Of course Yao did that.

Yao shrugged. "I really loved that poem." He went through one of his drawers and brought to a pair of panda pajamas to change into. Then he jumped onto his bed like an actual three year old.

"Come on! I'm so tired."

Ivan sat on the edge of the bed before laying back next to Yao. Yao got up and turned the lights off and scooted right up next to Ivan, pushing Ivan so he laid on his side and pressing up behind him. Yao's face was on Ivan's shoulder blade, and his arm was thrown over Ivan's stomach.

"Good night," Yao kissed Ivan's shoulder and fell asleep almost instantly.

Ivan was hot, the sensation of being held making his breathing uncomfortable. He felt weird in his chest and his face was hot.

It took him a while to fall asleep.

* * *

Arthur tried texting Yao all that night.

_I'm really sorry, okay?_

_Can you tell me what happened?_

_I didn't know how to tell you. It was awkward._

_Please respond, Yao._

By the next morning, when no responses came, Arthur knew Yao was pissed at him.

Arthur was worried by this- Yao could hold grudges for _ever_ \- as demonstrated with this whole Lars ordeal.

Arthur thrummed his fingers on the table next to him. He rolled his eyes and sighed, finally giving in to texting Antonio.

_Hey, what's Lars' number?_

* * *

Waking up the next morning was nice. Ivan woke up before Yao, and laid there with Yao's arm still loosely around him. He kept his breathing as even as possible, not to disturb the other. He felt Yao's breath against his back.

Ivan's stomach felt weird, like his chest had before he fell asleep. It felt like his stomach had flown off somewhere with Ivan's permission.

Yao's breathing was getting deeper now, so Ivan knew he was waking up. Yao yawned and stretched, squeezing Ivan for a moment. He hummed near Ivan's ear and scooted up to kiss Ivan's neck.

"Morning, darling."

Ivan was slow to react, fatigued, but when he'd yawned and registered what Yao said, he asked, "Darling?"

"Yep. I decided that that's a cute name for you."

"Ugh, I'm _not_ cute," Ivan pouted, rolling over to look at Yao.

"I don't know, you're being pretty cute right now." Yao replied with a lazy grin. "I'm making pancakes or crepes for breakfast. Which one do you prefer?"

"Well, I've never had crepes..."

"That decides it for us then. You'll like them," Yao said as he bounced out of bed, leaving the still bleary-eyed Ivan to wonder how he was so awake so early in the morning. Glancing at the clock Ivan saw that it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. How was he even conscious yet?

Ivan stayed there, laying on his back for at least ten more minutes. For the most part, he was just focusing on how tired he was, but then recollections of how intimate he and Yao had almost gotten the night before woke him up. Ivan was the one who prevented them from going as far as Yao had wanted. Yao seemed very ready to go very far, or as far as he was allowed.

Ivan didn't even know what that _meant_. He knew the idea of it; he had had a bit of sex ed and everything, but sex ed didn't usually cover two men. Men didn't have lady parts.

How did Ivan get this far into a romantic relationship without even considering to do his research?

"Breakfast's almost ready," Yao called. "Are you coming, _darling_?"

Ivan huffed at the nickname and sat up. "Yeah, one second." He stretched his arms over his head and swung his legs off.

There was a plate of crepes and a bowl of strawberries, among other toppings. Yao was dishing his own plate up. Ivan hesitated only a moment before coming put behind Yao, putting a hand on his hip and pecking him on the cheek.

"You know, if you're going to call me 'darling', I need an embarrassing nickname for you, too."

"Okay," Yao shrugged. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh." Ivan wasn't expecting him to agree so easily. "I don't know any English pet names, actually.

"A Russian one is fine."

"Hm, I'll think about it."

"Pfft, come on, you don't have to be so hesitant about everything, okay? I know you know at least one that you like the sound of. Shoot."

"Um, okay, what about 'lyubov', then?" It was the first thing he could think of when he thought of Yao. To English speakers, it would still sound kind of scary, especially with Ivan's accent, so Yao probably wouldn't think it was actually that cute.

"What does it mean?"

"Well, it means 'love', like as a noun."

Yao grinned. "Cute." He ruffled Ivan's hair. "You know, your accent is going away, very slowly. Unfortunate- I really like accents."

"What, do you want me to speak Russian more to bring it back, just for you?"

"Or you could just speak Russian to me."

"Yeah? You'd like that? That's weird. I hate when people are speaking at me and I can't understand what they're saying."

"Well, you're what, bilingual?" After studying and learning as many languages as I have, you just get a kick out of it."

Ivan shrugged, "I suppose."

"But right now you need to eat your breakfast. I work at noon."

Ivan dished himself up a crepe and toppings and copied how Yao folded his. It tasted really good. Yao took up the plates when they were done and put everything away.

"So you want to hear some Russian, lyubov?"

Yao nodded, smiling.

"Okay. 'Spasibo za zavtrak, lyubov," Ivan said, emphasizing the last word which, aside from maybe 'spasibo' was the only word he would know.

"What does that mean?"

"'Thank you for breakfast.'"

"Aw, for sounding so scary, it's so sweet."

"Haah, I get that a lot. About sounding scary."

"Aw but you're a dork. How could you be scary?"

"Hey!"

Yao snickered. "Hey, I hate to cut this short but I do need to get to work. Can I give you a ride home?"

"Oh, sure, yeah. Spasibo."

* * *

When Yao got into work, he found his plate very full. He had boxes of books to unload and catalogue and shelf, and apparently Riley had called in sick (probably hungover) so he had to be cashier, too, until Buchanan made it in.

About one in the afternoon, Buchanan was just coming in and setting himself up at the cash register when the bell rang, announcing a customer.

Yao was in another, off-shooting hallway from the main room of the bookstore, so he couldn't see who the customer was, but he froze when he heard him ask Buchanan where the poetry section was. "Oh, sure, let me have Yao show you where it is. Yao!"

The voice was low and raspy and so distinctly Lars that Yao felt dread welling up in his throat even as he moved toward Buchanan's voice. How did Lars find out where Yao worked? Arthur, of course. Yao clenched his fists. He'd take care of Arthur later. He took a deep breath before he went around the last corner.

Lars didn't look at Yao when he came around by the counter.

"Show him the poetry section, will you? Thanks."

Yao nodded and shuffled by Lars, down another hallway off the main room, opposite of the one he came from. All of these halls were lined with bookshelves on both sides, which were stacked full of all kinds of books, roughly organized by author's name. The poetry was at the very end of the hall.

When Yao was sure they were out of earshot of Buchanan, he turned to Lars sharply. "What do you think your doing here?" he practically hissed.

"Looking at poetry."

"Since when do you read _poetry_?" Yao scoffed, unimpressed by Lars' sly attempt to get close to Yao.

Lars shrugged, scanning he shelf. "I need to talk to you."

"I _have_ a boyfriend, okay?" Yao said, crossing his arms.

Lars just shook his head and side glanced at Yao, picking up a collection of small time poets.

"Have you ever read of these? I had this book as a kid. A lot of it went over my head then, though. I was wanting to reread one of these... wonder if it's here..." Lars said conversationally, flipping through the pages.

"No, I've never read any of this? Why do you keep popping up everywhere I go?"

Lars shrugged. "I really need to talk to you, okay"

"We're talking right now, and I already feel nauseous. If you just came in here to harass me, can you please leave?"

Lars gave him another, surprised look. "When did you get so mean?"

"Oh, don't you make _me_ out to be the bad guy, here, Derrichs."

Lars raised a disinterested eyebrow as he flipped through the book some more. He turned to the table of contents and scanned through it.

"Okay, you said just now you needed to talk, and now you're silent. What's your deal?"

"I meant in private. Can we get coffee sometime?"

"With you? 'In private'? Hell no."

Lars actually frowned at that.

"What? Are you shocked?"

"Look," Lars said, snapping the book shut and setting it on top of the shelf, turning to look directly at Yao. "I'm... sorry."

"You're..." Yao paused mockingly, "Sorry? Are you sure? You sound hesitant." Yao turned to go back to the rest of the store.

"Hey! Wait," Lars wheezed, grabbing Yao's arm gently. Yao looked back with a disgusted face, to find Lars' expression screwed up, the hand that wasn't on Yao's shoulder rubbing on his neck insistently. He was making a soft, high-pitched wheezing sound, and his already light grip on Yao's arm was fading, his arm falling to his side.

"Are- are you okay?"

Lars coughed int o his arm and took several deep breathes before looking at Yao with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" Yao asked again, "Should I call Bella?"

"No," Lars said, his voice hoarse and his mouth red. He glanced at the book he placed on the shelf before rushing by Yao toward the door.

Yao stared after him.


	35. Laboorint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's Fyensen?"
> 
> "I've never heard that. Where is it?"
> 
> Ivan pointed the word out in his book.
> 
> "Ivan, that says 'French'."
> 
> "Oh my god."

"Why the hell did you think you could go and do that?"

"Yao, calm down and listen to me," Arthur said, trying to make Yao see reason. He'd literally called Arthur up and started shouting at him over all the explanations the Brit tried to provide.

"No! I was at work! Why would you tell him where I work?"

"Listen, okay? I called him up this morning and he explained everything and I think you need to hear him out."

"I _have_ a boyfriend. I'm not going to 'hear him out'. Weren't you saying just the other day-"

"Oh my- bloody hell, Yao! Not everyone wants your ass! Get over yourself!"

Yao was shocked for about point two seconds before scoffing, "Whatever Arthur, I'm hanging up."

"If you hang up, I'm coming to your apartment. You're going to listen to what I have to say-"

"Whatever," he said, hanging up.

He wasn't going to be hanging around waiting for Arthur (because Yao knew he wasn't joking about coming over to Yao's apartment). He took his bag and went to the library.

* * *

When Ivan got to work that night, he was expecting to see Lars and be able to question him, but apparently he had called in sick. Arthur said he'd be in later that night, so Sadiq hadn't been called in.

Ivan had to wonder about if it was because Lars had run into Yao that he wasn't in work yet. Maybe Lars was just as upset about whatever had happened with Yao as Yao was.

When Ivan approached the bar, Arthur had been whispering to Tino, but when Ivan sat down they both became quiet. Tino peered at Ivan with wide eyes.

"So is Lars actually sick?" Ivan asked. He figured one of the two would know. Tino and Arthur were the gossips of the whole group.

Arthur nodded. 'He called in with a.. cough. He's just getting a prescription and he'll be in by nine." Arthur was avoiding eye contact with Ivan, glancing to Tino or down at his hands. "By the way," he asked, finally looking up, "What happened last night?"

"Um? We had dinner?"

"I mean about Lars, too."

"Oh, we just saw him in the restaurant, I suppose. He was with his sister?" How did Arthur know that they had run into Lars?

"Oh, that's good. Was he spying on her or were they together?"

"They were leaving together."

"Did you talk to him?"

Ivan shrugged. "A little bit, why?"

"Oh, nothing. I don't know." Arthur shrugged and Ivan knew he was lying, but he sized Arthur up instead of asking, dropping it.

"Alright."

* * *

Lars showed up at about eight thirty. Ivan thought he looked very pale. Arthur spoke to him over the bar counter first thing. Lars waved off whatever it was he was saying.

As Lars and Ivan patrolled the dance floor, Ivan noticed Lars avoiding coming into contact with Ivan. Occasionally, Ivan saw Lars start a coughing fit, but didn't think much of it. He had a cough.

At the end of the night, Lars left immediately. It was probably bad for his cough to be out so late.

"I'm concerned with Lars' cold," Lovino had said when they all gathered around the bar. "He usually very focused on getting his pay check, but tonight he sacrificed two and a half hours' pay."

"He's not usually very sickly, either, but lately he's had to get a lot more prescriptions filled since he's come back from California, or wherever he'd been," Antonio added. Ivan saw Tino and Arthur glance at each other.

Arthur knew a lot more about this all than he was willing to say, Ivan could tell.

"He was in California?" Ivan asked. Lars hadn't mentioned anything like that.

"Yeah, we sort of- Lars and Manny and I- had a falling out over something and he left. I'm pretty _sure_ he was in California. He was gone for like, five years. The first time I talked to him for those many years was maybe six months ago." Antonio shrugged. "Sometimes you need time for yourself, you know?"

Ivan hummed. Wasn't that strange? Maybe not in America.

"You mean Bella didn't see him either?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, no amigo. We both had no idea where he was or anything. I was worried for a bit but I figured he was grown man. He can do as he likes. Not that I won't admit that the reason I gave him this job was so I could keep a better eye on him."

"That's really sweet. In a controlling, creepy way," Tino said.

Antonio shrugged.

* * *

Ivan went for a walk the next morning. He considered calling Yao to see where he was, but it was noon on a Wednesday. Ivan knew exactly where he was.

So Ivan walked to the library. He picked up a book- he was pretty sure it was titled something like 'Laboorint'. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he could ask Yao.

Ivan was getting better at reading English with how much texting he'd been doing, but the more complicated words were still very tricky.

When Ivan sat beside Yao, he started by asking, "What is 'laboorint'?"

Yao looked up from his book. "Ivan! Hey, I didn't know you were coming. A what? What was that word?"

"Laboorint."

"Hm, could you spell it?"

"Here," Ivan said, showing Yao the cover of the book.

"Oh, labyrinth? How did you get 'laboorint' from that?"

"Oh," Ivan blushed. He had mixed up the English 'y' with the Russian 'y'. "in Russia, that letter makes an 'oo' sound. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I should probably learn some Russian to help you learn English more."

"No, you don't have to do that. I'm getting better."

"That's true, but what about when your sister comes? I should learn some anyway."

"Please, my sister taught _me_ English. You don't have to."

"Oh. Well I'm doing it anyway. I'll go pick out a book on it." Yao stood and pushed his chair in. "Start reading that book, and write down words you don't know in my notebook here," he said, sliding over his little read book full of recipes and his pen.

"Oh, oh, okay." Yao ruffled Ivan's hair as he left to the stairs.

Yao found the language section and located a beginner's Russian guide pretty quickly. He flipped through it to make sure it had a good explanation of the alphabet.

As he went back to the stairs, he noticed the poetry section. He hadn't been able to find that one poem, so he went over to the shelf and scanned it, too see if he recognized any of the titles.

He pulled out the first on he found familiar.

It was a compilation of small-time poets. It wouldn't have the poem he was looking for.

It was the one that Lars had picked out the day before, saying how he had read some poem in it that he'd wanted to find again.

Yao looked down at it, shocked, before angrily glaring at it. He stared at it for several moments.

He huffed and angrily put it under his arm with the other book and went up the stairs back up to Ivan.

"Do you have any words yet?" Yao asked.

"Um, yes. What's Fyensen?"

"I've never heard that. Where is it?"

Ivan pointed the word out in his book.

"Ivan, that says 'French'."

"Oh my god I feel so stupid."

"No, oh you're not stupid, you just didn't recognize the word."

Ivan sighed. "Maybe I'm just tired."

"Do you want some coffee? I want to harass Elizaveta about Gilbert."

Ivan smiled and shook his head. That was just so Yao. "Alright."

"Okay. I'm going to check these two books out," Yao said, referring to the two he had just picked out.

Ivan considered checking out the book about the Labyrinth, but it was beyond his reading level so he decided against it.

Yao put the books in his bag after he checked them out and took Ivan's hand as they walked to the coffee shop.

* * *

"Arthur's been asking about Peter, lately."

"Hm."

"I think it would be nice to have him visit Arthur and Alfred sometime," Tino pressed.

Tino and Berwald were in the car, having just dropped Peter off at school.

"Hm. Would b' nice, after anoth'r week er two."

Tino nodded.

"Do you know if he's getting along with anyone at school yet?" Tino asked. He was tired, and it was rare that Tino ever got up early enough to see Peter before school after working all night at the club.

Berwald shrugged. "Doesn't say much 'bout school."

Tino hummed. "I hope he's making friends." He drummed on the steering wheel. "How's your job been, too? You haven't said much about it."

"S'fine."

Tino nodded.

"You should meet the new guy at work, Antonio's cousin. He's interesting."

Berwald shrugged one shoulder.

* * *

Peter _did_ have a couple friends at school. He could never remember who was named what, but he was sure that someone was named Michael, and at least one of them was named Austin. The group of boys he was part of now had been friends since Kindergarten, so they knew each other very well. Peter had a hard time keeping up with them most times.

Sometimes one of them would poke fun at his accent. That was okay, though, because they were friends.

In class, he sat next to a mean girl who never shared her crayons with him. Sometimes she shared her snack, though, so he liked her.

Her name was Lacey. She wore cute dresses and always had her hair in perfect curls around her face. .Her hair was auburn and her eyes were green, and she was always giving Peter dirty looks when he took her crayons. One time she punched him when he took her pencil. It hurt a lot.

Peter would never admit he had a crush on her, but he did.

He thought that it would be a good idea to ask his Papa for advice.

"Papa?" he asked, pulling on Tino's sleeve as Tino had been getting ready for work.

"Yes sweetie?" Tino asked, smiling distractedly as he pulled on his jacket.

"How do you talk to a girl that you like?"

Tino froze. "Um," his smile creased his face more than anything as he peered down at Peter. "Um, why?"

"There's a girl that I like but I don't think she likes me very much at all."

"Um. I-I have to get to work. Why don't you ask Dad?"

"Hm?" Berwald asked from the kitchen, having only overheard Tino saying something about him. He was preparing dinner for Peter.

"Peter has a question for you," Tino said, kissing Peter's forehead. "I'm going to get going now, see you in the morning, babe!"

Peter went to the kitchen after locking the door behind Tino.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"How do you talk to girls?"

Berwald's head whipped up. "Hm?"

"There's a girl at school who I want to be friends with but she doesn't like me."

"Hm. Why doesn't she like ya?"

Peter shrugged.

"There's _really_ no reason?"

"Well, I guess she doesn't like it when I take her crayons."

"Why do you take her crayons?" Berwald asked, turning the burner down and crouching down to Peter's level.

Peter shrugged.

"You should take things from people without their permission, er 'course they won't like ya. Okay?"

Peter looked at his shoes guiltily and regretted telling that fact. He nodded slowly.

"Now, ya askin' how ta talk ta girls?"

Peter looked back up and nodded earnestly.

"Jus' like normal. Ya talk ta her kindly 'nd with respect 'nd ya listen 'nd carry a conversation."

Peter furrowed his brow. "I don't know..."

"Trus' me, try it."

* * *

Roderich wasn't there when Yao and Ivan got to the coffee shop. Yao asked Elizaveta about this after they ordered.

Elizaveta sent a sly smile to Lili.

"He's at my apartment a lot, and he and Vash argue constantly."

"Arguing means they like each other in southern Germanic dialects, trust me."

Yao laughed. "Oh god, you called it didn't you, Liza? Speaking of people hooking up though, tell me about Gilbert," Yao said with a wink.

"Ugh, you butt. We started dating a while ago, okay? We didn't want to tell anyone because, you know, Roderich's stupid. And you're embarrassing. And Gilbert's friends think he's gay and he thinks I don't know he goes to Antonio's club with them, because he's stupid, too."

"Oh my god, really? Gilbert's gotta learn that you are actually omniscient."

Elizaveta giggled. "Stop it, you. Here are your drinks."

Yao grinned and took them.


	36. Trying to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later, as Ivan sat at the bar after work, he heard Sadiq bemoaning how bad it was getting with Herakles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these have been so short... it'll be longer next chapter ;) aha

Two weeks later, as Ivan sat at the bar after work, he heard Sadiq bemoaning how bad it was getting with Herakles.

"He hasn't been home for over a month," he said, putting his head in his hands. "He spent Valentines with his drunk relatives and Kiku, and he said it was more fun that he'd ever had with me," he whined, voice muffled by his arms.

""You want a smoke, man?" Lars offered, pulling out his pack of cigarettes from his inner pocket.

"I can't. I told Herakles I'd give it up," Sadiq said, staring at the pack longingly despite his words.

"Whatever," Lars retracted his offer, back into his pocket.

"You know, Sadiq, you may benefit from seeing other people for a bit," Arthur suggested.

Sadiq responded with some groan or complaint. Ivan zoned out, instead focusing on how peculiar Lars had been acting the last two weeks.

He didn't speak as much, and his cough hadn't gone away. He was smoking a bit less, too. He often took sick days. Antonio said that he was at the doctor's a lot, trying to figure out what his cough was all about.

Ivan didn't know what to think. Lars had still been avoiding Ivan. Yao hadn't said a word about Lars since Valentines.

Sadiq gave in to Lars' cigarettes the second time they were offered and the two went outside for a smoke.

"Come over here, will you chap?" Arthur beckoned Ivan closer to the bar as soon as the other two were out.

"What?"

"Yao hasn't talked to me since Valentines and you know why, right? I think it's ridiculous."

"What? No, I have no idea why that would be."

"Didn't he tell you about Lars? No? Well then."

"No, he didn't. He said he'd tell me later. Why's Yao mad at you?"

Arthur sighed. "I didn't tell him Lars worked here now, so when he found out he felt betrayed and has only called me once since, to yell at me."

"Oh."

"But see, all Lars wants is to talk with him. He explained everything to me. That's why I've been trying to help him. And he has to do it rather soon. You don't think you could try to talk to him, do you?"

"Uh," Ivan said dumbly. "I don't know? I don't know anything about this, so I don't know if I should take sides."

"Go ask Yao about it then, okay?"

Ivan nodded and was slightly nonplussed by being told what to do by Arthur.

"You want a scotch? I know I need a drink right now."

"Vodka, I suppose."

Arthur poured drinks and took a large gulp of his first thing.

"Tino says that Peter likes a girl at school, now. The little squirt."

"Ha, that's cute."

Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "He asked Tino and Berwald for girl advice. Poor Tino had no idea what to say. He'll have to learn not to ask two gay men for girl advice in the future."

Ivan laughed. He could imagine Tino panicking and putting it on Berwald to answer.

Arthur sighed and looked down at his hands.

Ivan understood why he was bringing this up, now.

"You miss him?"

Arthur raised his eyes to Ivan's. "It's just weird that he's not only part of my family any more, you know? Like for a couple weeks I saw him every day. Then he's gone and he's got parents now and-" Arthur sighed again, more irritably. "And I'm really frustrated with how Yao's acting, too. He's not overreacting, but he's got the memory of a horse. If you ever do anything wrong, he will never let it go."

"I never even noticed anything was wrong, aside from whatever's going on with Lars."

Arthur shrugged.

They had a second or third glass before Lars and Sadiq came back in.

"Yeah, come down to my shop sometime. I've got great Cuban cigars."

"I really shouldn't. But I might."

Lars grinned triumphantly.

"You know, I used to go to Hookah bars with my cousins. I'm pretty sure I was high when I first met Herakles," Sadiq laughed.

Ivan rolled his eyes. He really was sick of hearing about Herakles from Sadiq.

"Well, I've got to get going," Ivan said.

"See ya, Ivan."

* * *

Yao texted Ivan late the next night.

_I can't sleep ):_

Ivan hadn't tried to ask about Lars yet, even though he'd had all day to do so, but now he knew he wasn't going to ask that day. Not once Yao started talking like this.

_What's up?_

_I don't know. Can I call you?_

_Sure._

Ivan answered the call as soon as it came up on his screen.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ivan. I am so tired, but Kiku's still in the living room and I can't bake without him being all suspicious. How was your day?"

"It was fine. You do sound tired. What have you been doing?"

Yao scoffed, "Well, Arthur's been texting me all day. Do you know that I haven't spoken to him? He lied to me about something really important and was _surprised_ when I found out. He said it was 'awkward' to tell the truth. Pfft, what a friend, huh?"

"Hm," Ivan thought it was strange that Yao's story differed so much from Arthur's explanation. "Well, what are you doing now?"

"Trying to sleep."

"Is it your... anxiety? Like you'd said before."

Yao sighed. "Yeah."

"And you don't want to ask Kiku for help." Ivan already knew this.

"No! He'll think I'm stupid."  
"I see why you've turned to me, since I have no idea what's bothering you and cannot call you stupid."

"Gosh, I _will_ tell you, okay? Let's not talk about it right now. Tell me about your day."

"Oh, I didn't really do anything. I went to the corner market and the cashier must've been Ukrainian because when she heard my accent she refused to ring me up and cursed at me in a strange accent in Russian."

"What? I didn't know Ukrainians felt that way about Russians?"

"It's more complicated than that, but oh well. There's a difference between the general culture of eastern and western Ukraine. Complicated."

"Wit, so because she didn't like your accent, and she spoke Russian means that she's Ukrainian?"

"Well, she looked Ukrainian, too."

"What? What's the difference between Russians and Ukrainians?"

"Oh, it's hard to explain. A lot of them have slightly different hair and eye colors, and, uh yeah. I don't know, you can just tell. Or I can."

"Huh, that's interesting. What else did you do?"

"Um, well I tried to find who Natalya's friend Toris is. He's Lithuanian. That's all I really found," Ivan sighed.

"Oh? Does being Lithuanian have a connotation, or?"

"No, he's literally just Lithuanian. I knew his name didn't sound Russian. I hope she's not dating him."

"Why not? What's his name, let me look him up on Facebook. How do you spell it?"

"T-O-R-I-S. His last name's Laurinitis, but I can't remember how to spell it."

"I found him. Aw, he's a cutie."

"Whoa, whoa, you're not supposed to say that. You always call _me_ cute."

"You're right, you're the cutest. But he looks like a sweetie. Why shouldn't she date him? Who are the other boys ins his profile picture?"

"Er, I don't know? One of them is probably Eduard- I think he's the older one."

"They look like dorks."

Ivan hummed.

"Since I'm looking here, what are some of your old friends' names? I want to look them up, too."

"Ah..." Yao knew how awkward Ivan was, and he still assumed that Ivan had friends back home? "Well, I worked a lot for the last couple years, you know, so I can't really remember any of their names..."

"Hm, well okay. I think I'm going to sleep now. Maybe I'll drop by your place tomorrow morning. Is that okay?"

"Oh, sure."

"Bye."

"Bye," Yao hung up. He sat on his bed and smiled for a moment before tiptoeing down the hallway, into the bathroom. He took out his bottle of sleeping pills and tapped two into his hand, filling a glass of water and throwing the pills back.


	37. Lars and Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How are you even awake. It's before ten AM I'm pretty sure this is illegal."
> 
> "I've been awake for an hour and a half."
> 
> Ivan stared at him blankly.
> 
> "No, I'm going back to bed. I never get up before ten and I'm not starting now."

Ivan didn't realize what 'morning meant to Yao'

Yao knocked on Ivan's door just after eighth in the morning. Bleary-eyed and confused, with a nasty case of bedhead, Ivan stumbled to the door in nothing but sweatpants.

"Hm?" he said, opening the door about an inch and squinting through the crack.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Let me in. Why are you still in pajamas?"

"What?" Ivan asked intelligently.

"Were you sleeping?"

Ivan closed the door after Yao pushed his way in and locked it. "Yes? What time is it?"

"Like eight?"

"How are you even awake. It's before ten AM I'm pretty sure this is illegal."

"I've been awake for an hour and a half."

Ivan stared at him blankly.

"No, I'm going back to bed. I never get up before ten and I'm not starting now."

"What! You can't sleep for two more hours! I'm here!"

Ivan shook his head. "I'm sleeping _at least_ two more hours."

Then I'll just... make breakfast."

"No. You came here really early, so you.. you get to come sleep with me."

"Sleep with you?" Yao asked, raising his brow.

"Wait, no I mean-"

Yao laughed it off. "calm down, you. I know what you mean. Do I have to? I came to talk, not cuddle, you baby."

Ivan pulled a face.

"it is too early." He turned toward his bedroom.

Yao sighed and took his jacket off before following. I van was already curling back up in his sheets. Yao wedged himself in with him, fitting himself into Ivan's arms.

Yao, of course, wasn't tired, instead staring around Ivan's bedroom. He hadn't really looked around it before. There wasn't much to observe.

Like the rest of the apartment, there was almost no furniture, except a drawer in the corner. There was one picture frame on the top of it. The details were hard to make out from the bed, but Yao thought he saw three, smiling small children.

Ivan, who was unconscious by now, pulled Yao to himself, humming. Yao found h8imself pressed to Ivan's chest, and Ivan's arms were loosely wrapped around his neck.

Yao felt uncomfortably close at first, but once Ivan nuzzled closer, rubbing his cheek against Yao's hair (and Yao found a position where he could actually breathe), Yao smiled and let it happen.

How had Ivan fallen asleep so quickly? He must've been exhausted.

Ivan's chest was warm on Yao's cheek, swelling with every deep, even breath Ivan took. Carefully, Yao placed his hand on Ivan's side.

Yao didn't realize when it happened, but before long he had been lulled asleep. He awoke with a start, his face nestled in the crook of Ivan's neck. Ivan's arm had moved from around his neck to his back, one hand pressed open-palmed against his lower back.

The sun was shining through the window with force, and Yao knew he should get up, wake Ivan up, and get on with what he'd come to do, but he was so content to just lie there a little while longer. He felt guilty, lying around in the middle of the day.

As Yao lay there, Ivan shifted, humming sleepily as he woke.

Yao grinned and was relieved- he didn't have to lay there much longer. HE adjusted so he could look at Ivan. "Morning, darling. Can we get up?"

Ivan still looked tired, but he yawned and nodded, before grabbing Yao around the waist as Yao moved to sit up.

"Five more minutes."

Yao scoffed. "You are such a child, Ivan! Let go of me. What time is it, now?"

Ivan looked at the alarm clock (that Yao had apparently not seen), "Almost eleven thirty."

"What! Aren't you hungry?"

Ivan shrugged. "I'll make myself an omelet or something."

Yao sighed. "Fine. I'll make them. Are you going to shower?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll do that now, to wake myself up. Is that okay?"

Yao shrugged. "Sure. Hey, by the way, I've decided to tell you about Lars today. That's why I'm here. But on one condition."

"Oh? What condition?"

"You tell me about your scars, first."

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on. I tell a story, you tell a story. It's equal that way."

Ivan sighed, shook his head, and stood. He didn't say any more as he grabbed his towel and went to the bathroom.

Yao went about making breakfast as Ivan showered. He had known that Ivan wouldn't like his idea, but that's just tough. If he wanted to know something, Yao wanted to know something too.

Yao was nervous about telling Ivan about Lars. How detailed should he make his account? He couldn't imagine the story causing any rifts between him and Ivan- it was that controversial, really- but he felt awkward talking about it, especially with how Ivan was about anything personal or sexual or _homo_ sexual, for that matter.

Yao dug around the fridge to find cheese and meat for a moment.

Ivan's shower was quick- and when he came out, his hair was wet and he had nothing but a towel. He drearily dragged himself to his bedroom to get dressed.

_Holy_ shit _he's hot_ , Yao thought, trying to focus on not burning the egg.

Now was not the time to be thinking of that at all, Yao chided himself, because they were about to have a serious conversation. He cannot let himself be distracted.

Ivan came out in a button down shirt and jeans a moment later. It looked nice and all, but Yao couldn't help thinking he'd much rather see the shirt unbuttoned. Or on the floor.

Ivan ate his omelet quickly, and complimented it when he finished.

"So about Lars..." Ivan continued.

"No, no, you get to share first. Tell me about your scars."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "You're seriously going to twist my arm into telling you?"

Yao nodded happily.

Ivan reluctantly nodded. "I guess you'd make me tell you eventually, huh?"

Yao nodded again.

"We could go sit on the bed, if that's better." Yao was already moving toward the bedroom door, and Ivan followed. Yao jumped onto the bed and scooted back to lean against the wall. He patted his thigh. "Put your head here."

"I'll fall asleep again," Ivan whined, but laid across the bed to do as Yao said anyway.

Ivan laid his head down and let it fall back and to the side, simultaneously letting Yao see his scars and letting himself avoid eye contact with Yao.

"So you remember my mother died when I was thirteen, right?" Ivan paused, not really waiting for an answer but not ready to continue. He didn't know where to start, and Yao could tell. "These scars are from when I was fourteen or fifteen, I can't really remember. Yekaterina was sort of depressed after... you know. Little Natalya- she was nine when Mama died- she didn't talk to nearly anyone, except sometimes she'd whisper little things in my ear. It was a really bad time. My father's family was gone, and my mother's family ignored our existence. We had no one to turn to."

Ivan paused again. He was dancing around the subject on purpose, Yao knew, but he didn't press. Yao wove his hand through his hair soothingly.

"I... I don't know why I started doing this, but I would go into the bathroom and lock the door and watch myself in the mirror and cut. I don't even know why, honestly. In retrospect, it's really stupid. I had to see my mother die and was thinking just how easily it happened, you know? Like, just how easily could my hand have slipped and I killed myself? None of my extended family would ever have known."

Yao felt sick hearing this from Ivan.

Ivan took a moment to breath. His jaw was clenched and Yao was still as he collected himself.

"Is that what you wanted to know?" Ivan sniped softly.

"Why did you stop?" Yao asked before thinking. He cringed.

Ivan glanced at Yao's face.

"Well, um. I guess the reason why I did this in the first place was, if you put so much effort into something and it could be gone so easily, what was the point? I would slice a little cut and watch little drops of blood form," Ivan explained, staring at the wall. Yao grimaced at the description. "Natalya saw one day, when I had forgotten to lock the door. She didn't tell Yekaterina, but she came and sat next to me and looked at me and whispered in my ear 'what are you doing?' She was eleven. I couldn't tell her. She was concerned and I felt so guilty and I realized it wasn't pointless because she didn't think it was and I had to make sure she never thought like I did."

Yao nodded, even though Ivan wasn't looking at him. He didn't want to ask any more questions, but...

"Did Yekaterina never find out?"

"Oh, she did. That's why she always makes me scarves and turtle neck sweaters."

"Oh." Apparently Yao wasn't going to hear that story.

Ivan laid there, head on Yao's lap for several moments longer, staring at the wall opposite them. Yao expected him to perk up eventually and demand Yao's story, but he didn't, so Yao started.

"Um, so I suppose it's my turn."

Ivan looked at Yao like he was just waking up again, and nodded.

"Okay, well, I met Lars when I was in culinary school. I had a project with Bella- Bella was in some of my classes and we got along well. I was in her dorm room when Lars came to visit her and, well..." Yao hadn't decided how detailed to get yet. "I had just broken up with my first boyfriend, so we exchanged numbers and hooked up."

"What exactly do 'hooked up' mean in this context, Yao?"

Yao turned pink and glared at Ivan. He'd noticed Yao's purposefully vague wording.

"I think you know what it means. So it was like we were dating.. but not really. You said in retrospect that your story sounded pointless? Same here. I spent nights at his place a lot and missed classes and fell behind in school and it really just wasn't good. I started... smoking cigarettes. It _really_ wasn't good. And then he kind of just... left. We never had any dates or any nights out, and that should've been a big red sign, until that last night. I said we should go out to dinner and we did but he was so distant and at the end he paid for the meal- which I did think was strange- and he said he was leaving. As in, moving a thousand miles away. And he was leaving me. I asked him what it meant and he said that we were over. I don't know. I thought I really liked him. I got attached- too attached, probably. When he left, I was a mess. A train wreck. He left me because he had a disagreement with his sister, like I didn't even matter to him at all.

"It just hurt, you know? We weren't dating, apparently- just fuck buddies, I suppose. I felt used and useless and it sort of ruined my life. We'd been 'together' for like six months, and he dropped me like it was nothing. He didn't think it was a big deal; what had he said? Something like 'it wasn't like I'm into commitment, you didn't know that? I'm too young to be tied down.'"

Yao laughed coldly, but didn't continue. He didn't want to get more detailed, and if he kept rambling on, Ivan would let himself walk himself over a metaphorical cliff with details. He was already getting worked up talking about it, and was trying to keep it out of his voice as he spoke.

"Do you understand that? Do I need to explain it differently?" Yao asked when Ivan didn't say anything.

Ivan shook his head. "No, I understand. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Yao could tell that Ivan didn't grasp the scope of just how bad Yao's life had gotten after Lars, but he didn't want to spell it out. It would just be embarrassing to admit that the low that Lars caused for Yao was why he lived with his younger brother, and why he didn't finish school, and why he couldn't stand to walk by someone with a cigarette.

But maybe compared to Ivan's story, it really wasn't that bad.

"Arthur said Lars wanted to talk to you. I think you should go and hear him out. It's been years since then, right? Maybe it would give you some kind of conclusion."

"What! Not you too, now, Ivan!"

Ivan furrowed his brow. "He said Lars explained everything to Arthur, and Arthur still wants you to talk to him. Do you think Arthur would try to get you to talk to him- who Arthur knows messed you up- if it wasn't worth it? Maybe he messed up and didn't tell you about Lars working with us, but he's still your best friend."

Yao frowned. Why was Ivan ganging up on him now, too? It was unfair. He didn't want to talk about this.

"How did you know that he didn't tell me about Lars? I didn't tell you that."

"He told me, and that sounded more likely that him lying to you, like you'd said."

Yao scoffed. "Leave it to the British to gossip about anything to everyone."

"Seriously Yao, at least try to hear him out?"

Yao exhaled, annoyed.

"I have to get to work," Yao lied. "Get off."

Ivan frowned, but sat up. Yao scooted off the bed and stood, straightening his shirt.

"I'll text you later, alright?" he said.

"Fine," Ivan muttered, also standing.

"Well, see you."

Yao took his jacket on the way out.

* * *

Once Yao got home, he sat on his couch. He didn't turn on the TV.

Thinking about Ivan's story made Yao sick, but thinking about what Ivan had said to him about talking to Lars made him queasy. He couldn't believe that Ivan had taken Arthur's side.

He sat there angrily for what seemed like a long time, before taking his phone out. He begrudgingly selected Arthur's number.

_Do you know Lars' address_.

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I really did fuck everything up, didn't I?"
> 
> "You really did," Yao agreed.

It was Friday when Sadiq went to Lars' shop on the west side. He'd been told that Lars was going to be in all day, from eleven to three.

When he got there, though, there was one man behind the counter, handing a paper bag to some other customer. He had long dreads that were pulled back into a pony tail, and dark skin. Once he was done with the other customer, he greeted Sadiq amiably.

"Hey! How are you? How can I help you?" he asked rapidly. "Pretty rainy day out today, huh?"

"Yeah. Hey so Lars told me he'd be in today?"

"Oh, you're Sadiq? He told me you were coming. HE called in sick for the morning, but he should be in soon. You can just hang out til then."

Sadiq nodded and leaned up against the counter. On the walls there were glass vases and pipes, for various recreational uses, few of which Sadiq recognized.

Five minutes later, a cheery blond guy in a red sweater came in and greeted the cashier.

"Hey Max!" Sadiq thought he recognized the kid from somewhere.

"Hello Matt. I'm not off til Lars shows up."

The kid was Alfred's brother, Sadiq realized when he made eye contact. He looked exactly like him, but wasn't being an obnoxious asshole.

"Hey, what's your name again?" Sadiq asked. Matthew hadn't recognized Sadiq, and took a moment before answering.

"Matthew." He sounded slightly exasperated.

Sadiq nodded, already forgetting his name. But he knew who Sadiq was, because he didn't ask.

Max took this to mean they were friends. Or close enough. "Well, since we're all waiting for Lars, why don't we try out some of our new shipment of cigars. I'll pay."

* * *

 

When Lars arrived, Sadiq was already a little numb in his fingers. These cigars were great.

Lars looked at the three of them before rolling his eyes and gently hanging his coat.

"What is this?" he asked severely, though his lips were quirked in a small smile.  
Maximo, what Sadiq had found that Cuban's name to be, looked up with a great big grin.

"What, you want to join us?" He offered the cigar to Lars.

"No," Lars waved him off.

"Maximo was surprised, and he passed the cigar to Matthew.

"You don't look so good, Lars."

Lars did look pale, really, and exhausted.

Lars shrugged it off, though, and the movement was lethargic. Sadiq cringed when he heard the man's shoulder pop.

"I had a blood sample take today."

"Should you even be in work, then? "Doesn't that put you at risk for fainting?" Max's eyebrows were furrowed.

Lars rolled his eyes. "I'm _fine,_ okay? Go on with Matthew. You want to see something cool, Sadiq?"

Maximo looked concerned still, but he and Matthew left.

"Have you ever heard of electric cigarettes? I use them a lot more now. No tobacco, you know?"

* * *

 

Yao glared at the people he passed as he navigated through the old, cramped neighborhood of West Seattle. It was Saturday, and Yao knew that Lars would be home because his stores hours were posted online. They were closed all day on Saturdays.

The house he came upon, which was supposedly Lars', was peach colored and tulips were starting to bloom in the front garden. There was one car in the driveway.

Yao rolled his eyes and hardened his face more before mustering the courage to walk down the driveway and knock on the door.

There was a moment before the door was opened about an inch, knocking against a chain that kept it from opening more.

"Hello," a deep, gravelly voice asked monotonously on the other side.

"Well, open the door. You're the one who wanted to talk to me."

There was another pause before the door was shut and the jangled. The door was pulled open to reveal a shocked Lars. He was wearing nothing but black sweat pants. His hair didn't have gel in it, so it curled down onto his forehead. He was covered in what looked like dirt and paint.

"Yao? How did you know where I live...? Never mind, can you come in?"

Yao kept his expression uninviting as he obliged. He was just over the threshold when a little white fluff ball dodged by his ankle. Lars saw it, too.

"Oh! Shit," he said, running after the rabbit into the front yard. Yao stood back, surprised.

Yao hesitated at the doorway, watching Lars struggle to catch the little fluff. Should he help? No, he decided. He had to remain detached. Yao was sure that this was just Lars trying to repairing their relations, and Yao was not about to just let him walk back into his life.

Lars dove and finally caught the little guy. "I'm sorry, Erasmus tries to get out all the time." Yao had to admit that Lars looked really cute, hair down and domestic looking. Yao scolded himself for thinking so and scowled deeper, nodding at Lars' explanation.

Lars was embarrassed. He hadn't been expecting a guest, especially not Yao. As Yao followed him inside, he silently looked about his home, embarrassed of the state it was in. He closed the door and locked it before putting the rabbit on the ground.

Yao was surprised, looking around the front room of Lars' house. He remembered Lars having an extremely messy, cluttered apartment. This room, however, was utterly tidy. Lars stood awkwardly in the middle of it, before realizing he had to live up to the position of host.

"Do you want tea? Come sit over here," Lars beckoned Yao into the living room across the hall.

"No thanks, I'm not thirsty. You should put a shirt on, though."

Lars glanced down at himself. "Oh, sorry." A kitchen timer beeped from the next room.

Lars glanced at the door, (which Yao assumed was the kitchen) with a stressed expression.

"I was making bread. I'm sorry. Excuse me."

Lars awkwardly fiddled with the seam of the pocket in his sweatpants before going into the kitchen. Yao was left in the living room alone.

Yao noticed that the living room smelled like flowers. The walls were covered in colorful paintings. Only when Yao noticed the half-finished painting on the easel, which looked like the beginnings of a vase filled with tulips, did Yao realize all the paintings were Lars' own.

He looked closer at them. Most of them were tulips, but occasionally there were the life stills of people that Yao recognized. One showed Bella holding a red tulip, which matched her pretty blouse. Some showed faceless men and women at bus stops. A painting up high, high above Yao's head, showed the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, from the perspective of someone walking on it.

There was a painting of Antonio, who Yao remembered as Lars' cousin, with his boyfriend (maybe husband, now. Yao didn't know) Lovino. Antonio was smiling at Lovino's angry face.

Another painting showed Arthur and Tino behind a bar counter. An alleyway with a middle eastern man smoking a cigarette. That same man sitting at a table with his hands on his forehead, elbows on the table, Arthur seated beside him with a hand on his shoulder.

One showed Tino and Ivan, at a small round table in another bar. Tino was smiling at telling some story it looked like, while Ivan listened with a little smile.

A small canvas leaning on the ground against a table showed an extinguished cigarette butt and a handkerchief laying beside it, covered in splotches of blood. Yao didn't understand it. He stared at it until Lars came back. He was fully dressed now in a (extremely tight) blue v-neck and jeans.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was painting when you came..." he took a white cloth and threw it over the one he'd been working on.

"Really, I couldn't tell. Your painting has improved." Yao kept a cruelly blank face and tone.

Lars nodded and motioned for him to sit at the small table in the corner. "Are you sure you don't want tea?"

Yao knew how Lars liked to fidget with his hands; he was asking about tea more for himself than Yao. Yao decided to be merciful. "I'll take a cup, I guess."

Lars went and boiled water and quickly came back with a tea pot and two cups. He sat across from Yao.

"Well, um, I'm sorry for all that. I wasn't expecting you today." He poured himself a cup of tea. He offered to pour Yao's, but Yao took the pot and poured his own.

Lars took a long drink before setting his cup down. "So, first of all, I realize I was a douche to you before, and I'm really sorry. You don't have to accept my apology, or forgive me." Lars fiddled with his cup. "That's what I really wanted to say. Get it off my conscience, you know? I've felt really guilty about it. At first I thought you know, maybe you'd give me another chance, but now you've got Ivan. He's a nice guy, you know. I didn't really bank on you even giving me a chance to say sorry, to be honest."

"And why are you trying to make amends now? It's been seven years.

"I've been gone for six of those."

"And you've been back for one of them," Yao shot back brutally.

Lars poured more tea for himself and rolled the cup back and forth between his palms. "Well, I've only contacted Manon about a half year ago."

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Why? Why not when you first came back?"

Lars looked Yao in the eye, suddenly very confident. His cup was set down on the table. "It was ashamed of how I acted. Okay? I didn't see her graduation from college and a lot of shit happened when I was gone that I should've been there for her during. I was a shitty brother."

"You were afraid your little sister would be angry."

"Of course I was. She had every right to be angry as hell with me, and never talk to me again. I was gone so long I forgot how easy going my whole family is."

"What made you reconnect with them if you were so scared?"

"I wasn't 'scared'," he scoffed. "Afraid is a much better word."

"They're synonyms and you're side stepping my question. I'm not forgiving you until you explain yourself."

"Didn't I say I didn't need you to forgive me?"

"Then what's the point of apologizing?"

Lars frowned. "Alright, you've got a point. I'm just... not keen on talking about it, okay?"

"You never are keen to tell me anything," he said sharply.

Lars looked at Yao, shocked. Yao didn't used to be so bitter.

"You're right. Okay, you're right and you always have been. You were always so interesting, you know? You were vivid while I was just _there_ , I've always just _been_ there. My sister would always cook and Antonio always did this or that, was captain of a soccer team or a dance team. You know what I did during high school? I scammed people to earn a quick buck. I sold drugs." Lars ran his hands over his face. His expression grew more somber as he continued. "They always had such great aspirations. Antonio wanted to be a famous dancer. You didn't know that, did you? Manon wanted to be a chef. She wanted to go to Netherlands and Belgium and France. I had told her that I'd take her. Antonio wanted me to speak at his wedding- he'd been saying that since he was twelve. For some reason he's always really liked me. But you know what? I let him down. I decided to throw a tantrum and leave and ignore them for _six and a half years_. He tried calling me, leaving me voice messages, emailing me, trying to invite me to be a witness at the court when they got married. I ignored all of it. Man, I let him down. I didn't even get to see Manny get her diploma." Lars blinked and looked down at his hands. Yao was surprised how much he was talking. He never remembered Lars sharing so much with him.

"I never told you the shit that happened with our father, did I? I won't bore you with details, but it left Manny just wanting to have a happy family. For a little bit it looked like she'd get her wish, too. Antonio was settling down with Lovino, and suddenly we'd have his whole family, too. Her and Antonio and I were all getting along and we were going to be a big, happy family. But I had to go and be a selfish _child_ ; I really was a child, huh? I ruined everything, and they're too nice to be angry with me.

"Not only them, though," Lars glanced at Yao meekly. "I remember listening to you talk about going to France or Germany, becoming a famous chef and traveling the world. I heard from Manny you didn't even finish school after I left. I really did fuck everything up, didn't I?"

"You really did," Yao agreed.

Lars nodded solemnly.

"You know, I know I took you for granted, right form when we first met. I knew we wouldn't work out in the long run- I was just a kid!- but I liked you and I had no self control. I had to have you, but really I wish we'd just been friends. Then maybe we'd still be friends. Then I wouldn't have hurt you so badly," Lars shook his head, putting a hand over his eyes. Yao had already seen some water welling in them.

"God, I fucked everything up. Everyone around me had had such vivid dreams, you know? What had _I_ ever dreamed of? Money? A nice house? I wanted enough money to take care of people I cared about. I'd had a plan for it, too, but I didn't see that by following that plan, my 'dream', it was actually just _crushing_ everyone around me. Look at them; Antonio quit dancing and opened a dance club instead, Manny's a _chef's assistant_. You work in a bookstore, stuck in this dreary old place."

Yao listened passively for him to finish. He could hardly believe that this was all coming from Lars, who had always been so indifferent and quiet when Yao knew him.

Lars still had his hand over his eyes as he continued.

"Lovino told me outright when I came back that if it were up to him, I wouldn't be anywhere near Antonio. Toni acts like it didn't bother him that I left like that, but Lovino says that he cried the night before their wedding. Because of me? I don't get it. I'm really trash for what I put my family through, but he was still so sad that wouldn't be there. But look: I showed up one day and Antonio let me into his apartment and sat me down and gave me food. Manny hugged me like we hadn't left on bad terms, just like I was coming home from college or something.

"You're the only one who has responded properly. You're the only one holding me accountable for my shit. I knew you would, too, that's why it's taken me so long to find you."

"Yeah, that's cool, but what made you find me right _now_ , not two months ago or two months in the future? What's happened to make right now the time to come and apologize?"

Lars stayed still and contemplated this. He peaked through his fingers at Yao. It was definitely a little watery, that one blue eye, though his voice had stayed even through his entire monologue.

"Nothing gets by you, huh?"

Yao shook his head. "Never has. Spill your guts."

Lars deflated minutely.  
"Well, fine. Fine. You win. I contacted Manny first, about eight months ago, then Antonio a week or two later."

"Yes, but what happened right before then, that caused you to contact them? That's what I'm actually asking."

Lars gave Yao another hard glance, then slumped further. He was cracking.

"Fine! But I've only told two others. You must be sworn to secrecy."

Yao rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine."

"Eight months ago, I... um, I was. Eight months ago. It came out that I, uh.."

"Spit it out! I have other things to be doing today."

Lars was taken aback by Yao's urgent flippancy. He looked at the teapot between them as if it had insulted his hair. His lip quivered minutely.

"I was diagnosed with throat cancer."

Yao's stern and distant air came to a screeching halt. "Throat cancer?"

Lars was glaring at the teapot. That meant 'yes'.

"You... eight months?"

"They caught it early. They removed it by surgery. There were complications, though. People assume my voice is weird now because of smoking a lot, but I only smoke two cigarettes a day now."

"Wait, you still smoke? You had _cancer_! Do you want to die? Does Bella know you still smoke?" Yao all but yelled at him.

Lars glanced up, surprised by the sudden outburst. "Manon doesn't know. I couldn't tell her that, after all I've already done."

"What do you mean, you can't tell her? She deserves to know!"

"I can't tell her I'm dying, imagine how sad she'd be."

"You _had_ cancer, though. You're not dying... right?"

Lars folded his hands and didn't respond.

"Right?" Yao repeated, louder.

"I went into remission a month ago. That's when I decided I needed to try to make peace with you."

"They- they can just surgically remove this one too, right?"

Lars shook his head. "I've been looking into treatments."

Yao just stared, wide-eyed.

"And you're still not going to tell Bella?" Yao demanded.

"I couldn't hurt her like that."

"Hurt her like that?" Yao asked incredulously. "A moment ago you were saying how you _were_ such a selfish child, and now you're going to let your sister think she finally has her brother back after all these years, until one day she wakes up to a call saying you're dead and you're gone forever. Do you have any idea how much _that_ hurts? Thinking you have someone and then they leave?" Yao had worked himself to tears, and Lars moved to comfort him, but hesitated and stopped, dropping his hand to his side again when he caught himself.

"I'm sorry. I told you I was sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. Tell your sister."

"I can't."

"Lars Derrichs, do you think this is a fucking game? Do you have anything else to say? If not, I'm leaving. I've got places to be."

Lars sat stock still, stunned to silence. Maybe Yao was getting through his thick skull.

Yao nodded, angrily wiping at his eyes, and went to the door. He only looked back once before slamming the front door shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write :)  
> it was actually really draining tbh so i hope you guys appreciated it.  
> Leave me a comment and tell me about your experience reading my fic. I'd really like some constructive criticism!  
> Thanks for being loyal readers. <3


	39. Nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He remembered that at one point, liking another man seemed disgusting to Ivan; or at least he'd tried to tell himself it did. But then suddenly he was dating Yao and it was perfectly natural. When did that change take place? A picture flashed before Ivan's eyes- books and hushed voices and a small man in a red sweater peering up at the shelf...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so there's a bit of mature content in this chapter if you don't want to read that then... i mean why are you here you guys have been waiting for this for literally 80,000 words come on don't kid yourselves...

Ivan had been thinking about what Yao said about his kissing skills lately. He was thinking about how Yao had wanted to go further, but Ivan didn't. He really did need to get educated about the more intimate bits of being in a relationship, it seemed.

So that's why, when Friday rolled around and he had no work, he found himself googling 'kissing tips'. There were guides and step-by-step instructions, and he read through some of them.

'Keep your lips soft', 'do a few soft kisses', 'lock lips' (lock lips? Ivan didn't know what that meant), 'remember to breath'. It was all rather overwhelming, trying to understand what they meant and put the advice away in a place where he'd remember it.

Apparently locking lips was putting your partners lower lip between your own. This was familiar to Ivan, when it was explained like that, except he'd never done it to someone _else,_ he'd always been receiving.

Then there was tongue, and all the techniques that came with that. Ivan read through it, but was embarrassed at himself for doing so.

One thing that he found new to him was the idea of 'nibbling'. He read through the short description and explanation of it, and thought it sounded weird. Why would that be sensual?

On the sidebars of the article he was reading, there were other suggested topics. He read through a few before finding a site filled with advice for gay teens. He figured it would useful, even if he wasn't technically a teenager any more. The articles varied from talking about kissing to the importance of condoms to anal sex safety. Anal sex?

Ivan didn't want to call himself clueless, but it was the truth. He honestly had no idea how gay sex worked. He clicked on the article and read through it, trying not to let the surprise show on his face, even though no one was around to see it.

By the time he was done with his 'research', Ivan felt like he was totally ready to kiss Yao and impress him and maybe- maybe- go to the next level. He felt nervous just thinking about it, but he was sure that he could be ready. He already knew that Yao wanted to, so if it was for Yao, he could do anything.

* * *

It was Saturday, a little after noon, and Yao texted Ivan.

_We should go out to ice cream. Do you work tonight?_

"No, I'm not working. Where do you want to go?"

_Wait, new thought. I'll buy ice cream and com over to your place so we don't have to go out. I'll buy Oreos to put into it, too._

"Okay, I'll be home."

Ivan was actually at the store, picking up some food and lots of vodka.

Ivan was nervous for Yao to come over. He wanted to try out his newly found kissing skills, and perhaps some other knowledge he now possessed. He debated with himself before going and getting a pack of condoms and some lube. He blushed as the cashier rang him up.

Ivan arrived home with enough time to unpack all of his groceries before Yao knocked on the door.

When he opened it for Yao, he went directly to the kitchen counter, taking out his Oreos and ice cream and pulling out bowls from the cabinets. He broke Oreos up and served himself ice cream without a word.

Yao was already going to go and sit on the couch before he even noticed Ivan, who was standing by the door still. "Aren't you going to have some ice cream?"

Ivan frowned, but nodded and went to dish his own up. He put the leftovers in the freezer so they wouldn't melt. Yao was seated on the couch, eating his ice cream aggressively.

"So, what's up?" Ivan asked cautiously.

"What do you mean? What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Well, maybe because you just barged in here and started stuffing ice cream down your throat like there's no tomorrow."

Yao huffed. "Whatever," he said as he took the last bite of his ice cream (and really, how did he not have a brain freeze?), put the bowl on the coffee table, flung his legs over the arm of the couch, his head on Ivan's lap.

Ivan picked his ice cream bowl up higher so he could still see Yao's face.

"It's your fault, too, you know."  
"What is?" Ivan asked. This conversation skipped something somewhere and Ivan didn't know what they were talking about precisely.

"Why I'm upset. You upset me, you poop."

Ivan furrowed his brow. "Sorry?"

Yao sighed long sufferingly. "I went to Lars' house today. He said upsetting things and it's your fault."

Ivan frowned. "What?" Was Ivan going to have to have a talk with Lars? Ivan honestly didn't think that Lars would have said something to hurt Yao's feelings...

Yao groaned and put an arm over his eyes. "If only you knew. I told him I wouldn't' tell anyone. I have to keep my promise because I must prove my superiority over him. And Arthur."

"Okay. That's fine. What do you want to do?" Ivan wanted to try out those kissing moves he'd read about.

"I want to Facebook stalk his sister."

Ivan frowned but shrugged, and nudge Yao to sit up so he could grab his laptop.

Yao took it and opened Facebook. HE found Bella Manon Derrichs, which was her named, apparently, fairly easily. He went to the photos and scrolled through to older ones. There was one that Yao paused over that showed her in a pretty pastel dress. She was in a court. It looked like a court wedding. Lovino and Antonio were in tuxes, and Ivan saw a grinning Augustus in the corner. Antonio was crying.

Yao kept scrolling. There was a photo of Bella and Antonio at Christmas, next to a Christmas tree. They looked young. The photo next to it showed Bella in font of the same tree, but instead of Antonio there was another man who looked very similar to him. He was tan and had a long pony tail and a serious set face.

"Who's that?" Ivan asked, pointing.

"I think that's Ricardo, Antonio's older brother. He's not around much. I think he works abroad somewhere in Europe."  
'Huh, I didn't even know Antonio _had_ a brother."

Yao shrugged.

"You know, Bell and I used to be very close friends. I was one of the people who started calling her Bella in the first place, and apparently it's stuck. Francis was the one who actually started it. We three were in a lot of classes together." Yao frowned and closed out of the internet, setting the laptop aside.

"You seem nervous."

"What?" Ivan hadn't noticed himself acting any different. "What would I be nervous about?" Ivan was not nervous about kissing Yao, he didn't think. Although, having to say that to himself was probably not a good sign.

Yao scrutinized him.

"I swear I'm serious, okay? There's nothing weird going on."

Yao shrugged. "I guess you're just weird."  
Ivan shrugged distractedly. "Hey, I have a question." He did? Ivan said it before he even thought it through.

"Yeah? Well, shoot."  
"When did you first realize you were gay?"

"Oh," Yao considered it a moment, placing his chin on his palm. "Like, for sure realized?" Ivan nodded. "Well, I think I was twenty or twenty one, and I was attending school and everything. I don't remember why or how, but my roommate kissed me- probably playfully or as a joke or whatnot- and we laughed it off, but really on the inside I was like, 'shit, I'm totally gay.' I dated him for about three weeks, but when we tried to have sex, it was so fantastically bad we decided we were just friends" Yao nodded and looked up at Ivan.

"Oh."

Trying to have sex after three weeks of dating? Yao and Ivan have been dating for about four months.

"What about you, darling?" Yao asked chirpily.

"Oh," Ivan never considered this before. When exactly _had_ he realized he was gay? He remembered that at one point, liking another man seemed disgusting to Ivan; or at least he'd tried to tell himself it did. But then suddenly he was dating Yao and it was perfectly natural. When did that change take place? A picture flashed before Ivan's eyes- books and hushed voices and a small man in a red sweater peering up at the shelf... Oh god, Ivan knew exactly when he realized he was gay.

Oh _god_ would it be embarrassing to admit it to Yao.

"I don't know," Ivan lied, "I guess I figured I was gay for a while..."

"Oh, come on. Everyone 'thinks' they're a little gay. When did you _know_?"

Ivan sighed.

"You're the one who brought it up, don't pretend you're the victim."

"Fine, um. The first time I really liked a guy was the first time I really knew. Okay?"

"Oh yeah? A high school crush or something?"

Ivan shook his head no, a blush creeping over his cheeks.

"On the farms, maybe? There must've been good looking guys out there."

Ivan shook his head again. "No, they were all poor. Poverty has a way of ruining someone's face."

Yao scrunched up his nose. "Then when?"

Yao was so cute, Ivan distracted himself with the realization of this. Ivan's face was red and he wasn't sure if it was because what he had to tell Yao or being faced with the fact that he didn't actually know for sure until he saw Yao that day at the library. So embarrassing.

"I realized, um, when.." Ivan couldn't tell him. He really, really couldn't bring himself to do it. It was so embarrassing! T admit that Yao was the reason Ivan realized his sexuality. Just at one glance! But Yao was going to make him tell, because that's how Yao is. Ivan sighed, "Do you even remember the very first time we met?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything."

"Do you remember that, though?"

"Uh, that day on the street?"

"Well, that was the first time we talked, but the first time we ever met, it was my first time in the library in Seattle and then I saw you, and..." All the momentum Ivan had built up with his courage died and deflated. "And...uh, well..."

"Oh my god Ivan. I turned you gay," Yao grinned teasingly. "Really?"

"Well... I guess you could say that..." Ivan said sheepishly.

"Aw, that's so sweet,"Yao grinned and pecked him on the lips.

And Ivan, for all that he had prepared, completely froze up.

"Ivan? You are allowed to kiss back," Yao said, opening his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing! Just, um, keep going."

Yao suppressed a laugh and leaned in to kiss him again. Ivan awkwardly tried to remember what he had read. Part his lips. Um, soft kisses? Ivan bobbed his head, trying to do what he imagined 'soft kiss' entailed. But he had already made an elementary mistake: to do that, he need some control of the kiss. But this was all in Yao's hands.

"What are you doing?" Yao asked, pulling back.

"Um... I-"

"Are you trying to improve?"

"Well," Ivan said. He'd been found out. "I was just looking up tips, because you said I wasn't a very good kisser and all and I felt bad that I was such a bad boyfriend so I wanted to make you happy." Ivan sighed. Honestly, he was very self conscious about if he was a good boyfriend or not. "And I'm just really awkward, so I'm sorry for that too. And I probably embarrass you with your family because I didn't graduate high school. And I'm not nearly as attractive as you or intelligent. Honestly, two of me combined wouldn't be as intelligent as you, even if I went to college. And you're so interesting when the only stories I have are of like, dead cows and skating on a pond. And I have no experience at all and I'm really not handsome or anything and I just hide under my scarf because I'm a coward and I've also never had a girlfriend or boyfriend before because I'm scared of personal relationships and-"

"Whoa, whoa slow down darling! What do you mean you're not attractive? Or intelligent? Come on, you have to credit yourself better than that. And I don't care about those other things. You don't embarrass me. How could you think that?"

Ivan blew out his mouth and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

"Seriously, Ivan. Look, I like your stupid hair that never parts the same way. Did you know it never parts the same? Your hair is kind of assholey in that respect," Yao said, pressing a kiss to Ivan's forehead. "And you have really nice lips. They're surprisingly soft." He kissed his lips quickly. "You're really tall and strong, too, which is really hot." Yao wiggled his eyebrow suggestively.

"Oh." Ivan frowned, abashed.

Yao smirked and kissed his cheek. "You'll get better at kissing with practice, okay? Just kinda, imitate me. Okay?"

Ivan nodded and Yao kissed him, doing what Ivan now recognized as 'lip locking', licking along Ivan's lip slowly. He made an appreciative, if not whiny sound at the back of his throat. Ivan tried licking back, but it just felt awkward. Yao pushed him down on to the couch.

Ivan's face felt hot as his mind finally returned to him, and he thought of all the things he could try out on Yao's mouth. He wondered what the nibbling felt like...

Yao broke the kiss off, pecking his lips three or four more times before just looking into his eyes, smiling lazily. Ivan's mind was gone, overwhelmed by the soft press of lips. It was pathetic how easily that happened.

Yao's eyes were really intense, and Ivan looked up with wide eyes. There was something in Yao's eyes that made Ivan's stomach clench pleasantly. He really wanted Yao's lips back on his.

That's why he suddenly found his hand clenched in Yao's hair, pulling him back down. Yao made a little surprised sound, but then Ivan was licking at his lips and sliding inside and Ivan had no idea where this sudden confidence was coming from. All he knew was that Yao was melting in his arms, and his hand was wound in Yao's hair.

Ivan swiped his tongue across the inside of Yao's lower lip and he felt Yao shiver.

When they pulled apart again, they were breathing a bit louder, a bit faster, and Yao's eyes were wide and surprised.

"Uh, maybe we want to move to your bedroom?"

"Oh."

"Unless you don't want to go any further; I mean we could totally just stay here. If you wanted."

"No, I think it's fine. Um, let's go."

Yao nodded wide-eyed and rolled off of Ivan, allowing him to stand as well. They shuffled awkwardly toward the bedroom, glancing at each other almost shyly.

"Oh! Um, I have—er, condoms. If- I mean, you know."

Yao stared at him a moment. "Oh. You know we don't have to go _all_ the way, right?"

"What?" Ivan asked, confused. Then what were they going to do?

"Ivan, you're a virgin. You don't want your first ever sexual encounter to be, you know, _all the way_."

Ivan blinked. "Oh. Um, okay."

Yao shook his head and opened the bedroom door, "Let's just continue where we were, okay? But take off your shirt."

Ivan did as he was told, and Yao shucked his off as well.

Yao smiled at Ivan before he crawled onto the bed, throwing aside the blankets and laying back. He patted his thighs as invitation for Ivan to straddle him. Ivan blushed intensely as he obliged. Ivan could feel Yao's, erm, _manhood,_ against his thigh.

"Come on, kiss me again. Just like you did out there, darling."

Ivan bit his lip before leaning down and taking Yao's lips again. He wasn't quite as confident, and fiddled with licking a lot more than he did, but Yao still seemed to enjoy it, running his palms up over Ivan's shoulders and down his back, occasionally scratching and digging his nails in lightly.

Yao looked to the side, breaking the kiss and gasping, and Ivan didn't know what to do, but Yao's hands continued exploring, down over his back and one going into his hair to pet him. One hand dipped down to Ivan's butt, which caused him to jump. Yao giggle.

Ivan felt too hot in his jeans.

Yao smiled and moved his hand over Ivan's chest. "I never noticed that you blushed all the way to your chest." He leaned up and pressed his lips to Ivan's collar bone. He ran his tongue along the edge of his bone, hands moving down over Ivan's navel, over his hips and down.

Ivan jumped when Yao squeezed his butt, and yelped just a little and glared at Yao's grin.

Yao kissed his way up Ivan's neck, suckling at the soft skin behind his earlobe. It was much, much to hot in here.

"Your pants- get them off."

Ivan hesitated before struggling with the button on his jeans. He had to roll off Yao and push his jeans all the way off. Yao took the opportunity to remove his own jeans, too.

Yao moved to straddle Ivan, now, and Ivan leaned back against the wall. Hesitantly, Ivan ran his hands over Yao's ribs, landing on his hips. Yao's boxers were plain and black. Yao looked really good like this.

Ivan wanted to see Yao's hair. He reached up and tried to pull out the pony tail. Yao obliged and untied his hair, and Ivan felt weird seeing Yao's hair fall down around his face. It just seemed so sensual like this.

Yao's face was flushed as he ran his hand down Ivan's front again, going lower than before. His fingers teased all the edge of Ivan's underwear.

Ivan bit his lip and closed his eyes as Yao pulled his boxers down.

"Tell me how you like it," Yao said, licking the shell of his ear.

"Hm?" Ivan asked distantly. He feeling very vulnerable, with his boxers low on his hip and being all exposed in front of Yao.

"How do you like to be touched?" Yao asked again, smiling as his fingers tiptoed around Ivan's belly button. "What do you want?"

Ivan sputtered. All he knew was that he wanted Yao to touch him, but he didn't know _how._ He stared at Yao blankly, turning even brighter red.

Yao sighed. "How do you touch yourself, then?" he asked patiently.

"Um, I don't- I've never-"

"You've never, what? Touched yourself? Really?" Yao was obviously shocked. Ivan nodded shyly. " _Really_?"

"I'm sorry?"

"No, I'm just shocked. You've really never... touched yourself?"

Ivan's ears even felt hot as he nodded.

"Why not? I'm confused."

"I, um, I don't know?" Ivan shrugged. "I just thought it wasn't a good thing to do, I guess."

"But didn't you have urges? Or? Are you even human?"

Ivan shrugged, embarrassed.

"Well, uh, hm," Yao said. There was no use in making Ivan feel bad. He wanted to go back to the momentum they'd built up before, so he frowned and kissed Ivan again. He could tell Ivan was flustered by his admission, so Yao was trying to distract him again.

Apparently it worked easily, because Ivan's hand tangled in Yao's hair once more, and he ran his teeth gently over Yao's lower lip. Yao moaned, trying to restore Ivan's confidence.

Yao put a hand around Ivan's member, deciding to just wing it and figure it out for himself. Ivan gasped at the unexpected touch.

"Oh, um," Ivan said dumbly, like he had something to say. He was wide-eyed and stammering and Yao had barely don't anything yet.

Yao smiled- how could Ivan still be so cute, with his underwear around his thighs and Yao touching him like this? He was adorable. Yao stroked him slowly, not to overwhelm him, kissing over his chest and neck and face, and Ivan hummed quietly, making cute whiny sounds whenever Yao did something he liked.

Ivan grabbed at his shoulder and he couldn't take it any more. He gripped his own boxers and took himself out, and Ivan groaned and covered his face with his arm.

"I want you to touch me," Yao whispered in Ivan's ear.

Ivan swallowed nervously, and peaked on eye open to peer at Yao. "I... I don't know how-"

"Give me your hand."

Yao took the hand that was covering Ivan's face and brought it to where Yao needed it. Ivan bit down on his lip harder, but did as was alluded to, gripping the base of Yao's shaft

"A little tighter, okay?" Ivan obliged. "Just, uh, copy what I do, okay?"

Yao stroked Ivan once, doing something with his wrist that Ivan didn't even comprehend, but he tried to copy anyway.

Ivan's stomach felt warm and tight, and he didn't even register the embarrassing sounds he was making until his face was nuzzled into the crook of Yao's neck, his body feeling fuzzy and sticky from release. He breathed in Yao's smell heavily.

Yao stroked Ivan's sweaty hair. Ivan's arms were tightly wound around Yao's lower back.

"Let me go- we need to clean you up," Yao said, softly pushing Ivan off. Ivan complied lethargically. Yao got up and went to the kitchen. Ivan felt tired, so when Yao came back, he was already half asleep.

Yao did what was necessary, and when moved to dispose of whatever he had (Ivan was too tired to register what exactly it was), Ivan tried to hold onto his wrist and pull him back into bed.

"No, I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Ivan let go and Yao got back up stiffly.

Why was Yao going to the bathroom, though? Wasn't that weird. How was he not as tired as Ivan? Ivan wracked his exhausted mind.

Unless Yao hadn't... finished.

Oh, god, Ivan probably came really quick. He was sure that's what it was.

Oh my god, Ivan sucked in bed. Last time Yao said he had awful sex, they were 'just friends' after that. Oh my god, was that going to be what happened to him and Yao now? Ivan had been so oblivious. He hadn't even noticed that Yao didn't come.

His embarrassment sobered him up and made him alert again, for about two minutes. He was scared now, so he curled up on his side facing away from the door, not wanting to see how disappointed Yao would be when he came back.

By the time Yao did return, though, he was asleep and didn't even feel it when Yao spooned up behind him, nose nestled happily against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i want to write some filler side stories for this AU, and i want you guys to tell me what you want to read.   
> a)antonio and lovino's wedding,  
> b)berwald's proposal to tino  
> c)what happened w/ vash and roderich after they left 'Europa' on Valentines  
> d)something else? you suggest something and i'll consider it.   
> thanks yeah just leave it in the reviews ;) thanks


	40. Hats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you think of this shirt, Peter?” Tino asked, holding up some t-shirt with a generic boyish slogan about dinosaurs or whatnot.   
> Peter stuck his tongue out, “I don't like dinosaurs! I want this one,” he said, pointing at one with a ship.   
> Tino sighed, “Fine, put it in the cart with all your others.” All of the others had something to do with boats, too.

Gupta rolled his eyes as Sadiq came in alone. He already knew what Sadiq came to talk about.

Sadiq ordered a black coffee.

"What wrong with you and Herakles this time?"

Sadiq smiled bitterly at Gupta correct presumption. "I think he's really leaving this time."

Gupta frowned a little and handed Sadiq his coffee.

"What makes you think that?" Gupta didn't bother to really change his tone in z question. He wasn't interested enough.

"He's not staying at Kiku's any more, but I'm pretty sure they're still seeing each other a to. If he's not there any more, he must have his own place. And he's spending a _lot_ of time with Kiku still." "Well, maybe you should just settle down with a good Muslim woman."

Sadiq gave Gupta a blank stare. "You're kidding me. That's your advice. I'm way to gay for that. Seriously, I thought you knew that."

Gupta rolled his eyes. "Well you know what I think about that."

"You interpret things differently, I know. That's cool. But what am I going to do about _this_?"

"Who's Kiku again?"

Sadiq sighed. "Our mutual friend. I'm just as good of friends with Kiku as Herakles is, but whenever Herakles and I fight, Kiku always sides with him. I mean, if they hook up, I'd totally get why, because Herakles is gorgeous and Kiku is hella cute, and you know I considered Kiku before I got with Herakles. He really is hella cute. But now it's not so funny, you know?"

Gupta hummed. "I still think you just need to find a woman."

* * *

It had been about three PM when Yao and Ivan fell asleep. Yao didn't usually sleep in the middle of the afternoon, so he woke up an hour later. He didn't get up though, because he knew that would wake up Ivan. It was kinda awkward, having his arm around Ivan, because Ivan was much broader than he was, but Ivan's arms was over his so it was impossible to move. Yao sighed and sidled up closer behind him. He was going to be stuck here for awhile, so he might as well try to get comfortable.

Ivan only woke up about five thirty, when his phone started to ring.

"Mm?" he started, tensing up before realizing whose arm was around him. He hummed and scooted around Yao and off the bed, feeling the surface of his dresser blindly to find his phone.

"Hello?" he slurred tiredly. "Natalya?" Suddenly, he was very much awake.

Yao sat up and watched Ivan as he spoke with his sister. She didn't usually call his phone.

"What? Is she okay? Oh my-" Yao furrowed his brow as Ivan broke off into some stressed sounding Russian. "Yeah, yeah I'll go to the bank as soon as I get the chance." Ivan nodded at something Natalya said. "I'll see what I can do. I don't know. I don't-" Ivan took a nervous swallow, glancing over at Yao. "I don't know, Natalya. I hope so. I'm sorry. Be safe, okay? You can't get it. I love you. Pass that on to Katya, too. Thank you for calling." Ivan hung up.

He sat down beside Yao, and looked at his hands, staying very still.

"What's wrong, Ivan? What did Natalya say?"

Ivan hunched over to lean his elbows on his knees, and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He mulled over what Natalya told him before he relayed it back to Yao.

"There's been an outbreak of tuberculosis in our area back home. Katya's got it. She's too sick to work." Ivan sighed again. "She's the main income for them back home. Natalya doesn't work. If Katya's not working, they're not getting any money. That means, if push comes to shove, they won't have electricity. They won't have running water or food and then Natalya would have to go to work."

Yao grasped the severity of the situation quickly. "She's about to graduate. She can't afford that."

Ivan shook his head. "And on top of that... that price of treatment for that is too much. I can't afford to support them by myself, not to mention to buy what they need to treat her. And if she doesn't receive treatment very soon, there's no point... She won't make it without treatment."

There was a heavy knot of empathy in the pit of Yao's stomach. "I'm so sorry, Ivan."

Ivan stayed stock still for a moment, staring at the ground by his feet, before he put a hand over his eyes. He breathed through his mouth shakily and unevenly, and curled forward slightly. "What am I going to do? There's no way I could ever pay for that. Natalya's going to have to drop out. Katya... she can't make it. There's no way. If I was still home..."

"Shh, don't say that. You can do it. Maybe they could ask someone for help? There has to be a way through this." He put a hand on Ivan's shoulder supportively.

Ivan shook his head. "No, there's no one to help. I have to try, of course- I'll send as much money as I can, but there's no-" Ivan broke off, and his lip trembled. "Oh my god, this can't happen again," he whispered to no one, wrapping his arm around himself and rocking himself a tiny bit, curling his shoulders forward protectively.

"Shh," Yao consoled him, rubbing his upper arm soothingly. "It's okay, Ivan. You're going to do your best, okay? That's all you can do. Come back to sleep. You can't do any more right now." Yao pulled him back to lie down, and Ivan turned and hid his face in Yao's neck. His eyes were damp.

"She raised me, I can't do nothing. Oh my god, if she dies..."

"Shh, don't think that. She's not going to. She'll be okay." Yao had no authority to promise such things, but he had to say something to comfort Ivan. He was dazed by how quickly this all happened. Just a moment ago Ivan was sleeping peacefully. Yao kissed the top of his head and stroked his face, and held him until he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Peter had been growing very rapidly the past month, and lo and behold, Tino had to go and buy him new clothes.

"What do you think of this shirt, Peter?" Tino asked, holding up some t-shirt with a generic boyish slogan about dinosaurs or whatnot.

Peter stuck his tongue out, "I don't like dinosaurs! I want this one," he said, pointing at one with a ship.

Tino sighed, "Fine, put it in the cart with all your others." All of the others had something to do with boats, too. "Now come on, to the changing room. Do you need help?"

"No! I can dress myself!"

Tino smiled and rolled his eyes. "Fine, as long as you don't take too long." Tino asked for a room for Peter and sent him along with a pile of clothes. "And you have to show me everything!" he called after the little munchkin as he closed the dressing room door.

And now Tino waits. He tapped his fingers on the cart and looked around.

Peter came out and showed him a pair of jeans that were at least a size too big. "No, put those on the 'no' pile." Peter went back into the dressing room.

There was a shirt that Peter really liked, but he had one a size too small, so Tino went back to look for it in the right size. There was only one 'medium' of it left, so Tino took it back to the dressing room to trade with what Peter had.

On the way back, though, he saw a waft of hair that looked strangely familiar.

"Lars?" he called at the retreating back. Lars' glanced back sharply, surprised.

"Tino," he nodded when he saw who called him.

"What are you doing here? Buying..." Tino glanced at the basket Lars held, "Hats?" Tino retook; sure enough, there were several hats.

Lars nodded uncomfortably.

"But this one doesn't match your usual color palette," Tino said, pointing at a black and red one.

Lars shrugged. "Guess it doesn't."

Tino changed the subject, "Well, have fun! I'm here with the kid, so I have to get back to him. See you at work."

Lars nodded and turned back to where he was headed. Tino eyed him curiously.

* * *

Yao managed to get his phone and sneak back to bed without Ivan waking. He laid down and Ivan clung to him in his sleep, pillowing his head on Yao's chest. Yao pet his hair as he texted Kiku.

_Not coming home tonight. At Ivan's._

He left it at that simple message. It was his night to make dinner and he really should be getting home, but he couldn't leave Ivan like this.

_Alright. I won't be home either,_ was Kiku's speedy reply.

_Really? Where are you?_

Kiku never stayed over anywhere.

_At a friend's place._  
That meant Herakles'. Yao didn't know Herakles had a 'place', though. He usually just couch surfed until he made up with his boyfriend.

That was suspicious, and Yao stored this information away to question later.

Ivan started awake (again), and started murmuring.

"Darling, go back to sleep," Yao whispered, rubbing a light hand over Ivan's cheek. Ivan hummed.

"I'm not tired now. I need to- I need to figure out how-"

"No, you don't have to worry about anything, okay? You can do that in the morning. Go back to sleep."

Ivan didn't protest, but when Yao looked at him a moment later he was staring straight forward with wide eyes.

"Darling, please, go to sleep," Yao said again. Ivan looked at him with those wide, dreary eyes, and Yao tried to smile consolingly. "I'll be here, babe, just sleep."

Ivan looked at him a moment or two longer before nodding sleepily and curling up more snugly to Yao's side.

Yao was still concerned- probably too concerned- about Lars and how he wasn't going to tell Bella. Of course, he couldn't tell Ivan, and now he didn't even think it was that big of a deal, compared to what was going on with Yekaterina and everything, now. He needed to be here to support Ivan now. Lars could fuck up whatever else he wanted to. Ivan was Yao's priority.

 


	41. Glum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis knew there was something up with Matthew as soon as he called. His voice sounded weird.   
> “We have to talk.”   
> “Oh, sure, oui. When?”  
> “Are you free right now? We could meet at that park near your apartment, if you want.”   
> “Sounds fabulous.”

Yao woke at seven AM and slid out of bed. He made a quick breakfast and went back to wake Ivan with a kiss on the forehead. He had slept fitfully, but every time he tried to get up during the night Yao had coaxed him back to sleep with a sweet word or a kiss, or the refusal to let him sit up.

Ivan was curled up in a corner of the bed and blinked blearily at Yao.

"What," he asked in a gruff, sleepy voice.

"Breakfast. Get up."

"What time is it?" He was rubbing his eyes.

"Seven thirty, but you went to bed in the middle of the afternoon so don't you dare complain. I have to get to work in an hour."

Ivan got to his feet stiffly and followed Yao back to the kitchen. He slept for a long time, but not very well, and Yao could tell by the bags under his eyes.

"Here's your plate. Hope you like your eggs scrambled. I'm going to get going, if that's okay," Yao said, grabbing his discarded shirt from the couch and his sweater by the door. He paused before opening it. "If you need to talk, just call me, okay? I'm here for you, Ivan."

Ivan nodded and took a bite of his eggs. Yao left.

Ivan finished his eggs and went into his bedroom. He picked up the picture of him and his sisters that was on the dresser before opening the top drawer. He dug around for a moment before pulling out a bundled wad of cash. He sat on his bed to count it.

One hundred and twenty eight dollars. This was all his spare cash he could send back right now. He'd just sent back what he could from his last pay check, and spent the rest on rent and groceries, literally the day before. This would pay for their rent and maybe just enough food not to starve for the two weeks. That didn't cover transportation for Natalya to get to school, or electricity, not to even begin to mention Yekaterina's kept his breathing disciplined and even, and relaxed his shoulders. He had to find a way through this. How could he make some quick cash? Ivan collected up the money and shoved it into his pocket.

He could think about this on the way to the bank.

* * *

Francis knew there was something up with Matthew as soon as he called. His voice sounded weird.

"We have to talk."

"Oh, sure, oui. When?"

"Are you free right now? We could meet at that park near your apartment, if you want."

"Sounds fabulous."

Francis didn't like this. Matthew never had such quick conversations on the phone. He usually spoke so slowly and quietly, but today he sounded like he'd decided on something. He was determined and sure.

Matthew was easy to spot in his dorky big flannel button up and band t=shirt. "Hi Francis." He greeted him curtly, and didn't step in close enough for Francis to kiss his cheeks.

"What is the matter, Matthieu?" Francis asked. This was really worrying him now.

"Uh, well, you know camping season's coming up?"

"Of course?" Francis didn't know that, but he always pretended to know more than he did, anyway, so he lied easily.

"Well, I live on the camp grounds during the on season... so I won't be around much for the next six months."

"Oh, that's okay, I knew that."

Matthew looked at him guiltily.

"I think that we might want to not hold onto... this, while I'm gone. I'd feel really bad making you wait around for me."

"What, what?" Francis was confused. Wait around for him? Was Matthew breaking up with him?

"I think it would be better foryou to- for us, I mean – to see other people. I mean, I won't be seeing many people other than cub scouts, so for you to see other people would be best, I think."

Francis smiled tightly. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, I know this was sudden. I like you Farncis, but I just don't think that it would be fair to go off for six months. I hope youunderstand. I'm sorry."

"No, no, I understand. It's fine. Yeah. Um, do you want to go get some coffee or something then? As friends."

"Oh, sorry, I have some things to do. I'm going out to camp tomorrow afternoon, have to get things situated really quick with my landlord. Maybe we can have dinner- as friends- when I'm back this Thursday."

"Sounds... fabulous," Francis said, less enthusiastically than earlier.

"Well, I just figured I'd do this in person. I've got to get going, though. I'll see you around, alright?" Matthew said with a sorry smile.

"Yeah, of course. See you around." Matthew turned and walked away. Francis' face fell as soon as he was out of sight.

* * *

At the club, Antonio knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Francis.

"Hey, mi amigo, what's wrong?"

"Yeah, what's with the long face to match you mane, pony?" Gilbert chimed in, snickering at his own pathetic joke.

"Hah, what? It's nothing. Non," Francis waved them off. He'd been sitting at the bar, not drinknig much and staring off into the distance. Very unusual for Francis.

Gilbert shrugged. "Well then stop acting so weird and come dance! Don't be such a loser, sitting over here all by yourself."

Francis smiled at his friend- rather forcibly- and shook his head. "No thank you. You two go have fun."

Antonio scrutinized him a moment longer, even after Gilbert had given up, and went to the floor. Antonio sat beside Francis and gave him a hard look- or hard as Antonio could make. "Alright, whats happened. You never get this moody without a reason."

Francis sighed. "Fine, if you must know, Matthew broke up with me today."

"Oh, man, that's... tough. I'm sorry."

Francis nodded. He already knew that, thank you Antonio. Francis knew that Antonio wouldn't have anything intelligent to say, and he figured Gilbert would just tease him. That's why he didn't bother telling them.

"Man, I know you really liked him, too." Antonio was pulling at threads, trying to comfort his friend. Francis nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. Guess he didn't like me enough to wait six months for me."

Antonio frowned but didn't say any more.

"You know, I want to suggest you go and dance with some cute guy, but how about I buy you a bottle of wine instead?"

Francis looked up at his friend. Antonio was smiling sympathetically, his eyebrows raised in offering.

Francis smiled a little sideways smile. "That sounds like what I need."

* * *

A couple glasses later, Francis had a pleasant buzz and Antonio was barely staying on his stool. Lovino had glared at them as he walked by, but said nothing.

Francis seemed to have forgotten about Matthew for the moment, because now he was staring around the dance floor, pointing out cute boys and talking about what had happened at work and whatever else he thought of. Antonio hummed along and listened but had to focus more on his balance than replying.

"Sadiq looks glum today. So does Ivan. I wonder what's going on with everyone?" Francis turned to Antonio to see if he knew. Antonio was staring at the ground with wide eyes; was it just him or was it moving?

"Hm?" Antonio looked up suddenly and tried to locate his security guards. "Sadiq always looks like that. Where's Ivan?"

Francis nodded in his direction.

"Huh, he does look upset." Antonio looked at Francis and frowned. "Should I ask him what's up? It doesn't look like he's focusing very well."

"How did you get sober so fast?" Francis asked, surprised that he seemed competent again.

Antonio shrugged. "I'm Spanish?" That explained literally nothing, but Francis took it for what it was worth. "Ivan! Come here," Antonio called as Ivan walked past them. "What's going on, mi amigo?" he asked.

"What? Nothing. I'm fine." Ivan looked tired and he didn't make eye contact.

"You don't seem like it. Tell me what's going on. Come on, sit with us."

Ivan rubbed his eyes and took the offered seat. He looked stressed out.

"You want a drink? You look like you need one. Tino, vodka over here." Tino also gave Ivan a concerned look before setting down his glass.

"Now, you have to tell me what's going on, okay Ivan?" Ivan took the shot gratefully and downed it before running a hand over his face.

"Fine. My sister's dying. All there is to it."

Antonio was taken aback. "What? I'm so sorry. What does she have?"

Ivan blinked at his hands a few times before answering. "Tuberculosis. There's been a break out in my home area."

"Merde," Francis muttered, looking at Antonio with wide eyes.

"Ah, man, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do, just let me know."

Ivan nodded and asked for another vodka. Antonio smiled and waved another one over from Tino.

"But seriously, if you do need anything, I'll try to help. Least I could do."

Ivan nodded. "I was actually thinking I might need my paycheck early. Since you offered anything."

Antonio froze and frowned. "Aha, hm. I guess I did say _anything_ didn't I?" He sighed. "Lovino doesn't usually like doing that, but I'll talk to him."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, well, go back to work."

* * *

Ivan slept that night alone, tossing and turning. Eventually, around seven, he decided he had to get up even if he hadn't gotten any sleep. He made breakfast and stared at it for a long while before eating any.

He ate half of it before he didn't want any more, and went into his room. He went through his top drawer again and pulled out a stack of photos. They were all of him and his sisters, and some of them had his mother in them, too. In one, it showed Yekaterina in her school uniform.

Katya was about sixteen, and had awkwardly frizzy hair. Ivan was twelve, in his little secondary uniform. Their mother was seeing them off to school. She looked frail and sickly, and her eyes were dull, but she was still kissing the top of Katya's head, presumably telling them to have a good first day of school. Ivan didn't remember this day at all.

* * *

Tino and Arthur were like the mother hens of everyone at the club. They gossiped and had dirt on literally everyone. They took it upon themselves to keep the social aspect of their colleagues in check and smooth. That's why, every once in awhile, they would meet for coffee and just talk for a couple hours.

"So yeah, Sadiq is _still_ arguing with Herakles."

"Of course he is. I keep telling him just to try dating other people, but, oh no, can't listen to good advice."

Tino sighed. "And let's see, what else is going on? How are you and Alfred? You said you had something to say about that earlier, didn't you?"

Alfred scoffed. "Well, you'll get a kick out of this. His sister bought a ranch out in eastern Washington. He thinks he's going to go live on it with her and help her. He wanted _me_ to go _with_ him!"

"What? I didn't hear anything about this. What did you say?"

"I told him 'fat chance' and expected him to drop it. But no, he still plans to go out there. He always wanted to live on a farm. I thought he'd finally come to terms with _reality_ though. Apparently I was wrong."

"So what are you going to do?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "He has plans to go out there and live for the summer and maybe come back in the winter. His brother Matthew isn't going because that's when his job is. I don't know. I think it's stupid, but I can't really stop him, apparently."

"Huh, well, I'm sure you guys will figure it out. Berwald and I are having some tough times too."

"Really? I'd never imagine it."

"Well, I work six PM to two AM, and he worked from nine AM to three PM, so we see each other like two hours a day, and during those two hours we're always cooking dinner for Peter or shopping or doing other chores. Having a kid is _hard_." Tino ran a hand through his hair and looked at Arthur like he had a secret. He scooted in closer so none of the other coffee shop patrons would hear. "We haven't had sex in a _month_."

"Lord, old chap that's- I'm sorry." Tino blushed a little as he scrubbed his hand over his face. "If I knew I'd offer to babysit him some day that Berwald has off."

"Would you?" Tino looked at Arthur like he was Mother Mary herself.

Arthur scoffed, "Of course. I'm the one who stuck you with the brat in the first place."

Tino smiled. "Thank god. I'll call you sometime. You can't back out now."

"Of course not."

"Well, back to our conversation. Oh! I just remembered something I overheard last night. Matthew broke up with Francis-"

"Good. I don't know why Matthew stuck around with Francis for so long."

"- and Ivan's sister is sick. Tuberculosis."

"What? That's too bad. That's treatable, though, isn't it?"

"There are medicines I know of, but they're rather expensive and have to be long term. I don't know if Ivan can afford them. I feel really bad for the guy." Tino frowned pensively. "I wonder if there's anything we could do."

"Even if we did, I don't know if Ivan would accept our help."

"That's true, even though it's stupid."

"God, speaking of stupid, let me tell you about Lars- promise not to tell anyone, not even Berwald."

Tino nodded.

"He has cancer. He's going to start treatment this net week."

"What! Cancer? Really?"

"Yes, but the stupi part is that no one knows- me and you and his doctor are pretty much the only people that I know for sure know about it."

"Wait... what about Antonio? They're cousins, shouldn't he know? And, his sister?"

"Yeah. Stupid."

"Actually, you said he's starting treatment soon? I saw him buying hats at the store when I went with Peter. He's doing chemo, isn't he. He probably bought those hats to try to hide it from Antonio still."

Arthur just sighed irritably. "God, he's stupid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys thanks for reading..
> 
> two chapters back i asked you guys what side story you might like, and spamano wedding won.. but i've decided i'll do that later. i'm revamping some of my backstories for some of the couples (not in any way that would affect what you guys know though... lol) so i'll be writing the sufin proposal, and i'll let you guys know when that is posted.
> 
> also if anyone was wondering, i just changed my tumblr url to evil-nerd (. tumblr . com)
> 
> also! if you do talk about my fic on tumblr, you should totally tag it with 'good thing i brought my library card' so i can see it ;)
> 
> okay well, thank you!


	42. I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino took Sadiq's seat and leaned across the counter, getting in Arthur's face. “Alright, what's up with Lars' stupid fucking hat,” he hissed quietly. “I know you know, so don't try to hide anything, alright bastard?”

It was Friday when Peter told Tino that his friend, Lacey, wanted to play after school sometime.

"Well, we'll have to meet her parents first. Maybe when I pick you up some night."

Peter nodded happily. "Yay, thank you!" Peter trailed back to the living room, where Berwald was fixing up the broken reclining chair.

Tino sighed. He was making dinner, which he'd only barely be able to eat before he had to go to work.

Hana came yipping into the kitchen, jumping up at Tino's ankles then.

"Go on, Hana. Ber, could you call the dog?"

Peter called out instead, "Come here! Come doggy!" it was only when he made kissing sounds that Hana perked his ears up and ran back out.

"Put him in the other room, too. Dinner's ready."

Tino dished up a plate for himself and sat to eat quickly. Berwald washed his hands in the kitchen sink before scooping up some for Peter and then himself.

Tino really should have already left, but he had to finish dinner because Berwald was busy, and he needed to eat _something_ before he went in for work.

When he finished eating, he stood and put his plate in the sink and kissed Peter on the forehead, leaning over to peck Berwald on the lips before going to the door to pull on his jacket.

"I'll be off, then. Have a good night, you two!" He pulled open the door and left.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he went to work was that Sadiq wasn't in his usual mood. The second was that Lars was wearing a hat.

Sadiq was speaking slowly and quietly to Arthur, who looked bemused by whatever he was saying.

Tino went up next to Arthur, not necessarily wanting to know what Sadiq was talking about but rather needing to ask Arthur about Lars' hat. Did he start chemo or something? Did Arthur even know?

Tino shrugged off his jacket and joined Arthur behind the bar. He'd just barely gotten there to say hello before an angry looking Lovino stormed up and barked at Sadiq to "Go do something productive, stop sitting around on your ass."

"I don't have anything to do yet, though-"

"Do I give a flying fuck? Get out of here."

Tino and Arthur glanced at each other with raised eyebrows as Sadiq huffed and got up, sulkily walking over to Lars to strike up another conversation.

Lovino took Sadiq's seat and leaned across the counter, getting in Arthur's face. "Alright, what's up with Lars' stupid fucking hat," he hissed quietly. "I know you know, so don't try to hide anything, alright bastard?"

Tino retreated to the other side of the bar so he wouldn't be dragged into Lovino's line of fire, but stayed close enough to be able to hear everything.

"What? What do you mean? Why would I know anything?" Arthur started defensively.

"Don't kid yourself, bastard. _I'm_ technically his cousin, so I deserve to know."

"Well, if his cousins should know, maybe ask Antonio."

"Oh, please, he's too oblivious. I know you have some shit on him, so spill your guts."

Arthur was taken aback by his overall aggression. For a moment, Tino thought Arthur was going to tell. But Arthur shrugged and said, "Well, maybe his head just got cold. Maybe he's balding. Some guys just lose their hair really young."

Lovino rolled his eyes and turned on Tino, realizing he wasn't going to get anything from Arthur. "And what about you? You have some cutesy answer, too?"

"I-" Tino was caught off guard. Arthur glanced at him with wide eyes, _do not tell him_. "Cutesy answer from me? No. I don't know anything."

Lovino let out an irritated breath. "Fucking liars."

He left, though, and Arthur let out a breath, relieved. "That was close."

"He does have a point, though. He deserves to know."

"Yeah, but it's not our place to tell, is it?"

Tino frowned, but shook his head. Lars had to tell on his own terms.

* * *

Ivan was exhausted by the time he got to work. He had slept a grand total of maybe two and a half hours. He could honestly barely stand, so he collapsed onto a bar stool as soon as he could.

"Tough night, Ivan?" Tino asked.

All Ivan could do was nod.

Tino could tell Ivan didn't feel like talking, so he went back to silently unpacking the alcohol bottles he'd need for the night.

Ivan was caught up in his own thoughts. He couldn't bear to think of sleeping alone again tonight. It's been somewhat okay with Yao there, but he couldn't ask Yao to spend the night every night until he resolved his situation, could he?

Maybe it was worth a shot, because otherwise there was no way that Ivan was going to be getting any sleep whatsoever.

_Are you busy, Yao?"_

_Not particularly. Why? Aren't you at work?_

_Do you think you could spend the night tonight._

It took a moment for Yao to respond.

_Aren't you at work? How will I get in your apartment?_

Ivan forgot that three AM wasn't the usual time for people to be doing house calls. Yao would have to come over before Ivan was even done with work.

_I have a spare key. If you want to come over before I'm done, I can tell you where it's hidden._

_Fine, where is it?_

_There's a plant at the end of my hall. In the corner of the pot._

_I'll see you later. Focus on work!_

Ivan smiled a little. Hopefully that meant he was actually going to be in Ivan's apartment when he went home.

* * *

Lovino sat and glared at the back of Lars' head for a good portion of the night. Even as he got in the middle of fights between patrons, even as he chatted and laughed with Sadiq, especially when Antonio asked him to do a favor and he rolled his eyes before complying. Lovino was not impressed.

At the end of the night, Lovino glared as Lars said good bye to Sadiq, who had to go home very quickly. He said good bye to a very tired looking Ivan, who vaguely returned it back. Antonio was helping Matthias pack up the DJ equipment, and Arthur and Tino were chatting on the side when Lovino went up to Lars.

"I have to talk to you."

"I was just about to leave."

"That's nice, come with me." He briskly led Lars to his office and closed the door behind them. "I know what's going on, you stupid bastard."

Lars raised an uninterested eyebrow. "What do you mean."

"I don't know the specifics, but I know you're doing something really stupid and potentially harmful. You might not have known this, but we were getting along just fine without you." Lovino crossed his arms when Lars rolled his eyes. "And your attitude since you've come back has been shit, and I know you're lying about something or hiding something."

"How would you possibly know if-"

"Shut up. I _know_. And if I'm wrong, good. If I'm right, and it comes out and it hurts Antonio... well, your shit's going to be fucked. You'll be out of this club, and you'll be out of our lives. Forever. I'm not fucking around, Lars. I'm tired of cleaning up your messes. Antonio and Bella might be crazy about you, they might put up with any shit you fling at them, but _I won't._ "

"You'll be speaking for Antonio, now?"

"I'll do what I think is best."

"On suspicions that I'm not doing what I think is best?"

"You can do what you think is best all you want, but if it contradicts what I think, I'm going to bet I'm right over you. I've already seen what you think is a 'good decision' and I don't like it."

Lars glared down at Lovino, and Lovino glared right back at him.

"I'm leaving."

"Yeah, get out. Think about what I said, bastard. Go home and think long and hard and consider your options."

Lars slammed the office door shut behind him. Antonio was in the hallway, and jumped back slightly. He hadn't heard anything.

"Sorry for startling you," Lars mumbled as he edged by him.

"No problem. See you Lars!" he called happily.

* * *

Ivan glanced at the plant in his hall as he walked by. He didn't see the key where he'd hidden it.

He opened his door; the apartment was dark, but on the coat rack there was the unmistakable red jacket of Yao's. Ivan quietly got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing his face, before he slowly creaked open the bedroom door. Yao was asleep on his bed.

He tiptoed to his dresser and pulled out sweatpants, and changed as silently as possible. When he crawled into bed, Yao rolled over and hummed.

"Mmm, you're home. What time is it?"

"Like, three in the morning?"

"Do you seriously do this every day? No wonder you wake up so late." Yao rubbed his eyes and leaned his chin on Ivan's chest to peer up at him.

Ivan hummed in agreement. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, but I know how you slept these last two nights. You're not going to fall asleep right now. Let's kiss some."

"I'm too tired..." Ivan whined quietly, putting a hand over his eyes.

"Shh, just stay there. If you stay awake now, I promise you you'll get at least five hours of sleep. And I won't wake you up at seven or eight."

Ivan scoffed, but didn't protest as Yao sat up on leaned over him. "See, what we forgot to do before was just explore."

"Explore is too big of a word at three in the morning."

"It only has seven letters."

"Seven letters too many."

Yao chuckled and kissed him; chastely, because poor Ivan was so 'tired'.

His hands wandered over Ivan's chest and his stomach and groped along the lines of muscle. "I want to see where you like to be touched."

Ivan hummed. He really was trying to stay awake, but his eyes didn't want to open any more and he didn't have the will power to move his hands or touch Yao at all. Yao's hands were creeping over his shoulders now, and his mouth was kissing down behind his ear. Ivan leaned his head back more, to the side, letting Yao have more access to his throat. Yao spread his thighs apart and sat between them.

His hands were on Ivan's hips now, one moving down over his thigh, slowly, the other squeezed his butt. Ivan's eyes flew open. Yao laughed.

"Sorry, have I told you you have a cute butt?" Ivan turned red and Yao kissed his cheek with another little laugh.

The hand moving down his thigh gripped and dragged blunt nails down his sweatpants, which Ivan felt through the fabric. It stopped at his knee, grabbed it and splayed his legs wider. Ivan froze, but didn't tense up.

Yao gave him an inquisitive glance and held eye contact as he pressed his lips to Ivan's sweatpants clad thigh. Ivan bit his lip and either reddened or paled, he couldn't tell which. Yao's other hand went to lift Ivan's other knee, keeping his legs wide. Yao kissed all the way down one thigh, smirked, and kissed down the other.

"Can I take your pants off?" he asked wryly. Ivan, who suddenly wasn't feeling too tired, nodded helplessly. Yao smiled and pulled them off roughly, allowing Ivan to kick them off himself. He pressed his lips to the bare skin of his thigh and Ivan shuddered.

"You really like this, huh?"

Ivan swallowed, embarrassed; did that even need a verbal answer at this point?

And Ivan was hard. They both knew it, they both could see the proof right in front of them. Ivan wanted to touch himself but was too embarrassed. Yao seemed to be avoiding it for now. Ivan became aware of how he was whining as Yao ran his tongue over the area he'd just been kissing, and pressed both of his hands to his mouth.

Yao put one of Ivan's knees down to hike the other one over his shoulder, continuing to kiss and lick and even _bite,_ as he slid his hand down to take care of Ivan's _other_ problems. Ivan bit his hand.

He slept very well that night.

* * *

When Lars got home, he sat in his living room for a good long while. He did think about what Lovino said. If he told Antonio, though, he knew Antonio would be hurt. He _knew_ it. He had to keep it to himself. He couldn't bear to see the effect of his own stupidity; they were doing a good job of hiding the effects of him leaving, and he was grateful for that. He was too weak to face his own bad choices; at least Lars admitted that to himself if not anyone else.

He pulled off the beanie he'd worn all day and ran his fingers through his hair. He was having it shaved the next day. He just wanted to try the hat out.

He pulled on the ends of his hair and stifled the sound of pain he wanted to make. He deserved a bit of this kind of pain for being such a shitty brother and cousin and friend and human being over all.

Finally, he decided to paint. He started with a blank canvas and threw colors onto his palette without a pattern. He painted roughly, with ugly techniques and no fine brushes like he usually strove for. He didn't care.

What he ended up with looked like an ugly, anger contorted face. It was Lovino. He hadn't meant for that to happen but it did. It looked like he was yelling at him. Lars sat back and looked at it for a time. It was like his subconscious was telling him he deserved to be yelled at. He knew that he did, but he still shied away from looking directly into the painting's dark eyes. His hands twitched looking at it.

Finally, he picked up his brush for one last detail. He dipped it in the bloodiest red he'd had on his palette and wrote in an angry scrawl 'I know,' in one corner. He clenched his hands into fists and looked at the finished painting. He breathed out and took the brushes to be washed.


	43. Big Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why'd you call, Lars?"
> 
> "Yao. Can we get a drink?"
> 
> "What?"

When Ivan woke up, his legs were tangled in the sheets and Yao was sprawled beside him, one of his legs wrapped around Ivan in an awkward way. Yao was still sleeping, his head slowly rising and falling with Ivan's breaths.

Ivan glanced at the clock- a little past eleven. It was strange that Yao was still sleeping. Ivan figured that he should wake him up, but he really didn't want to. He looked so restful.

It was a sunny day from the look of the sun streaming in through his bedroom window to fall on his drawer. It gleamed off the photograph that sat on top of it, the one of Ivan and his sisters.

He must have tensed at the thought of Yekaterina, because Yao yawned and stretched a bit.

"Hmm, what time is it?"

"Past eleven You didn't have to be somewhere, did you?" Ivan put his arm around Yao as he tried to move and sit up, keeping his head on his chest.

Yao humped and pulled his hair out of his face where it had stuck to the corner of his mouth. "No, I don't have work today. I might have to go shopping later for groceries." Ivan hummed. "I need to go to the bank, which is in the big grocery store about two miles away. We could go together?"

"Oh, I usually go to the store in China Town. They have a bank, too, if you want to go there." Yao raised his eyebrows. "Then I could buy you some meat buns and get my groceries at the same time. You need to try Chinese meat buns."

"Oh, that sounds nice, too."

"Okay. So, are we going to get up now?"

"Mm, well, if you don't have to..." Ivan smiled coyly. Yao groaned.

"But it's so hot in your room. I think it's time to get up." He struggled Ivan's arms, and pinched Ivan's side to make him let go.

Ivan made an indignant sound as Yao hopped up, taking advantage of how off guard he'd caught Ivan with that sly move. However, Ivan lurched over and wrapped his arms around Yao's waist and tried to pulled him back. Yao laughed- slightly irritated, but mostly amused. Of course, Yao underestimated how strong Ivan was, and was easily dragged back under the sheets.

"God, you big baby."

Ivan grinned at him and put a broad hand on Yao's lower back, moving his thumb over his spine. Yao gave him a sharp and credulous look. "How dare you use my weakness against me," he said lamely.

Ivan grinned wider and took Yao's hand, too. He ran his nails gently over his palm and Yao shuddered.

"You're cheating. Let me go," Yao whined softly. Ivan just shook his head with a grin and kissed him.

"Let's a sleep a little bit longer. Just five more minutes. Please?" Yao rolled his eyes.

"I'm hungry! Let's go _eat_ ," he pleaded.

Ivan pouted and tried to hug Yao closer as he tried to get up again, pressing Yao's face to his chest dramatically, in a way which he knew was uncomfortable, as he whined. "Pleeease.."

Yao said something, but it was slurred and muffled. Yao struggled for a moment, but then relaxed and settled on pinching Ivan's side again. Ivan laughed and released him. "Fine, let's get up. Did you bring clothes?"

"Yeah, I brought a bit of conditioner to leave here, too, but it's too late to shower today. I put it in your bathroom last night."

"Oh, okay. That's fine." Yao went to the foot of Ivan's bed and pulled his clothes from a bag he'd put there. He changed quickly as Ivan groggily pulled himself out of bed. He pulled on a t shirt and changed to jeans.

I drove here, so I can take us. My car's parked below." They walked out together, and Yao locked the door with the spare key he had. "I'll put your key back now."

"That's okay, you can keep it." Ivan waved him off.

Yao shrugged and pocketed the key.

He drove them to China Town, and parked in the small parking lot in front of a large store whose name Ivan would never be able to pronounce. They went in and Ivan noticed how easily he looked over most everyone else's heads. Perhaps that was because most of the shoppers at this time of the day were older women. Yao greeted many of them familiarly. All of these women who they stopped to talk to eyed Ivan suspiciously.

Yao gave Ivan a basket to carry as he picked out whatever he needed to buy. Ivan felt awkward, lugging all these groceries through an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar words on all the labels. It reminded him of when he first came to America.

They went to the cashier line. Yao spoke to the man in Japanese, and then led Ivan to the bank in the front of the store. "Go ahead and do what you need, I'll get us some food."

There was a long line at the concessions, even longer than the bank, so when Yao finally got the food Ivan had already found a place to sit. Yao set the tray down in front of him.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing."

"Alright, well, these are meat buns. This one is chicken and this one is pork. Try them both."

Ivan nodded distantly and picked one up. Ivan didn't notice when Yao watched him. He seemed off. It was probably still just over his sister. Yao felt for him.

When Yao stood and bussed their table a few minutes later, Ivan said he had things to do, and opted to take the bus instead of having Yao take him home. Yao nodded, but couldn't help from wondering what he was off to do.

Ivan actually had to go to the library to pick up a hold he'd placed. Maybe he'd check out the listings for jobs, see if he might take up a second part time one.

* * *

Yao put the groceries in Kiku's small car, barely able to fit them all, and drove home. He was about home when he got a call on his cell phone. He assumed that it was Kiku, and he silenced it. He could call him back once he was parked.

He parked and got out of his car and looked at his phone as he got the groceries out. It wasn't Kiku.

He considered calling the person back. Sighing, he pressed the 'talk' button and waited for him to pick up, balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

"Hello?"

"Why'd you call, Lars?"

"Yao. Can we get a drink?"

"What?"

"I would like to talk to you."

"For once?"

"Please."

Yao didn't respond immediately. "Why?"

"I can't really talk to anyone else, can I?"

Another pause. "True. Sure. When?"

"Are you busy tonight?"

He didn't have any plans. "No."

"Can I pick you up?"

Yao couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. However, he didn't want Lars to have his address or know where he lived. "At the library. Pick me up at the library."

* * *

Ivan ended up sitting and reading his new book for a while at the library, so that when he went to look at the billboard for job listings, it was already getting rather late in the afternoon.

That was when he saw Yao, seemingly irritated, standing on the curb right outside the library's front door. He was waiting for someone. Ivan was surprised to see him, and initially wanted to go and say hi. But something told him not to. For some reason, he stood and watched Yao, confused as to why he was there. If he'd come into the library, he would probably have gone to the tables upstairs and stayed awhile, and have noticed Ivan sitting there reading. Why was he just standing there? Ivan saw Yao check his watch just before a car pulled up. Yao got into the passenger seat after greeting the driver, and the car pulled away.

Ivan recognized that car.

It was Lars'. What was Yao doing with Lars?

Ivan stood watching the spot Yao had been for a moment in silent contemplation. Then he tucked his book under his elbow and, after considering a map of bus routes, went to a stop a block down from where he usually caught his bus.

* * *

Yao wrinkled his nose at the dirty pub that Lars took him to. Lars ordered the drinks for them, and sat at a high bar table near some billiards.

The first thing Yao had noticed about Lars was his stupid striped beanie. He just wanted to rip it off his head, because it didn't match anything else he was wearing. It didn't match who Lars was. The bartender placed the drinks on their table, and Lars thanked her. Looking at Yao, he caught him staring at the hat. He smiled bitterly.

"It's shaved. Guess I'll be saving money on hair gel now." He laughed hollowly.

Yao didn't know if he should laugh or not, so he stayed quiet.

"Why am I here, Lars."

Lars' smile took a different shape, Yao couldn't quite place his finger on what tone. Lars glanced to the side wryly. "Well, I'm not quite sure, really. I just needed someone to talk with."

* * *

Tino wasn't keen on meeting Lacey's Dad, but because Peter insisted, he let himself be dragged from the car into the school's front courtyard, where little Lacey, who was a cute little girl with nicely curled brown hair, was standing beside her father. He looked rather eccentric, with his cargo shorts and shirt and unruly brown hair.

"Hello!" he greeted animatedly upon seeing who Peter had brought with him. "You're Peter's father!" He had an Australian accent. "I'm Kyle, pleasure to meet you!" He put his hand out to be shaken.

"Tino," Tino responded, taking his hand.

"So, you have a wife? Helping raise this little squirt?"

Tino paused at the question. So Peter didn't say he had two dads. He considered how to proceed. "My partner, Berwald, and I raise him."

Kyle's smile caught. Peter and Lacey had run off around the courtyard and were playing. "Two men?" Kyle asked. Tino couldn't read what the question really meant.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

Kyle looked confused for a moment. "So like, there's two of you? Lucky! I wish there were two of _me_ to raise Lacey!"

Tino raised a brow. This guy did not appear to be the sharpest tool in the shed.

* * *

A couple drinks later, and Lars seemed unable to filter himself. Yao was too tipsy to care that he didn't care about Lars' fucked childhood.

"And that's the last thing my father... ever even _said_ to us." Lars slurred as the finale of whatever story arch he'd been on. Yao hadn't barely even been paying attention.

"You know, it's nice to get this off my chest. I like having you as a friend, Yao." Lars pronounced sloppily. "We should've been best friends. Imagine how much fun we could've had," he laughed coarsely. Yao nodded, not really paying attention as he stared at the last empty shot glass between his fingers. He only looked up when he noticed Lars wasn't talking any more. He was staring at Yao.

"What?" he asked, a little harsher than he meant.

"You're one of the best people I know."

Yao rolled his eyes.

"No seriously, look, you hate me, yet you came to listen to me talk about my issues that you don't care about. You're- the best."

"Yeah, whatever. Flattery will win you nothing with me."

Lars didn't hear him. "I think I still have feelings for you."

* * *

Ivan found Lars' favorite bar quite easily. He was sure to walk in carefully, so as not to attract attention, especially if his hunch was right. He entered and went to the bar, eying the crowds and the tables.

Yao and Lars were seated at a table, the same one that he, Lars and Tino sat at when Lars took them out that one night.

Lars appeared rather tipsy by this point. Yao didn't. Ivan ordered a vodka and found a dark booth from which he could watch the two.

And honestly it was boring. They looked like friends, or maybe coworkers, just out for a friendly drink. Ivan didn't actually suspect there was anything going on, but he was still unsure about the whole thing.

But if he wasn't suspicious, why'd he come out in the first place? he asked himself.

He sat for an hour, an hour and a half before anything happened. Ivan noticed with a quick eye when Lars started to silently stare at Yao. He recognized something in those eyes that he didn't like. His instincts told him to intervene, but his mind told him to sit tight.

* * *

"W-what?" Yao asked.

Lars looked away again, sheepish. "I'm sorry for everything."

"You can't be serious. You can't do this."

"I wish I'd stayed with you. But, I'm glad I'm alone right now, too. I could never put a boyfriend through this with me. I'd break up with them, just to spare them. Maybe I spared you, too."

Yao was indignant. _Spared ?_ "You're kidding me. Every time I think you can't be even more stupid, you prove me wrong."

Lars' thoughts seemed to sober him, and he frowned at his hands. "Even without this stupid cancer, maybe being alone is sparing everyone."

Yao furrowed his brow. He didn't like the sound of that statement. "Don't say that."

"But it's true. I'm such- you're right. I'm selfish. I don't deserve anyone."

"Don't say that," he repeated, more forcefully. Lars turned bemused eyes onto him.

"You can't say it's not true."

"Yes I can. You idiot."

"But you would never come back and be with me ever again, right?"

"Of course _I_ wouldn't, idiot. You and I are over. But there are other fish in the sea, right?"

Lars laughed. "I have no time left to fish."

"You're so dramatic."

"Cancer makes you like that, maybe."

Yao rolled his eyes. Lars grinned.

"You don't ever think that, maybe, for a dying man, you might kiss me one more time? Yours were always the sweetest."

Yao was completely caught by surprise. "What?"

"One kiss? It won't hurt anything, will it?"

"But..." Lars leaned in anyway, and pressed his lips chastely to Yao's, fleetingly, his hand on Yao's neck for only a split second before he pulled away again. He could taste Lars' cheap liquor on his lips. "I-" Yao stuttered, looking everywhere but at Lars. He shouldn't have let that happen. His eyes flitted around the room, and landed very suddenly on the worst place to look.

In his dark booth, Ivan sat forward, outraged and upset at what he had just seen, and suddenly making eye contact with Yao.

_Shit._

 


	44. Shit Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't it a little arrogant to assume that Ivan really was in the wrong, and state it so bluntly? Ivan wasn't the one going around kissing other men.

Yao didn't look at Lars as he stood and excused himself to the bathroom. Why the hell was Ivan here?

He saw Ivan stand in the corner of his eye, but didn't look at him either as he went into the hallway with the restrooms. Yao knew Ivan was going to intercept him. He waited for him to appear.

"What the hell was that?" Ivan immediately demanded. His voice was raised, not yelling or shouting but louder than Yao had heard it. He was angry.

"What was what? I don't need to explain myself to you when you're taking such a tone with me. Or do you not trust me? What do you think it was?" Yao responded, matching Ivan's volume. The bar was quite loud to begin with, so hopefully no one could hear them quarreling by the toilets.

"I think it was you, _kissing_ Lars. Am I mistaken?" he sneered. "Maybe I don't know what kissing looks like. Am I wrong?"

"I was not kissing Lars. He kissed me!" Yao defended himself indignantly. For Ivan to accuse him like that! "And what are you even doing here? Stalking me?" Yao crossed his arms.

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't going off with your exes late at night! And then _kissing them_."

"Oh my god, can I not do what I want? Do I have to check with you first?" Yao threw his hands up. He didn't need another Kiku in his life. "How did you even know I was here?"

"I-you-" shit, Ivan was caught. How could he answer this and not anger Yao even more? "I saw you and-"

"Do you not trust me? God, Ivan, can you leave? Please just get out."

Ivan, who had been stepping closer and closer to Yao, not even conscious that he was standing over him, stepped back at that. He didn't expect Yao to actually just tell him to leave.

"That's not true, I trust you! It's Lars I don't trust, listen, I'm sorry."

Yao looked up at Ivan incredulously. "You're kidding. You're the one who wanted me to talk to him in the first place. I didn't want to talk to him. And right now, I'm feeling the same way about you. Please, just go."

"Yao, I-"

"Yao? Is there a problem?" It was Lars. Yao saw Ivan tense and moved to intervene as Ivan turned toward Lars. "Ivan? What are-"

Ivan couldn't handle it. This guy takes Yao out here, according to Yao, he kissed him, and now he just waltzes over here. He turned and punched Lars in the jaw, causing Lars to fall backwards against the wall.

"Ivan! Oh my god, Lars are you okay?" Yao knelt beside Lars, who was clutching his jaw in shock.

"Yao, please," Ivan started. He instantly knew he made the wrong decision.

"No, Ivan, don't say anything. Please, just leave."

Ivan recognized that he had no right to stay any longer, not after that. He tightened his jaw and his fists, turned, and left.

He texted Yao when he got home. He felt horrible. He _probably_ should not have punched Lars, no matter how upset he was. But he still didn't know why Lars kissed Yao, so maybe Lars deserved it. Or, perhaps, he totally did not.

Ivan probably should have apologized for being in the bar, spying on him in the first place. Though, can you really call it spying? Perhaps he just happened to have been in the neighborhood and stopped in. Ivan was trying to make excuses.

He really had overreacted.

As soon as he had gotten home, he'd collapsed on the couch with his arm over his face. Yao had looked so upset. Granted, Ivan _may_ have just found about an affair of his. And he also punched Lars pretty hard. But really, Ivan reckoned he was justified in that.

Finally, Yao texted back.

_I'm mad at you and not ready to talk yet. You have explaining to do, and I'll explain my side too, but you're in the wrong here. Next time, maybe you'll trust me to take care of myself._

Ivan stared at the little screen.

Wasn't it a little arrogant to assume that Ivan really was in the wrong, and state it so bluntly? _Ivan_ wasn't the one going around kissing other men.

Only a moment later he got a text from Arthur

_I don't know what's going on, but Yao is here and I can tell that you've really fucked something up._

Oh god. This really was bad, if Arthur already knew.

* * *

Antonio had known something was up when Lars had stormed out of Lovino's office. He feigned oblivion, because if it was important, his Lovi would tell him.

Lovino didn't say a word, even as they drove home. They went to bed, and Lovino sat up reading the news on his tablet as usual. Antonio snuggled under the covers on his side of the bed, exhausted, but unable to sleep until Lovino did.

"You know, Lovi," he started, yawning.

"What?" Lovi asked, only half paying attention as he read about some stabbing in the metro area.

"I think we should make us official. Since the law was passed, we've been pushing it off. I don't want to wait any longer."

Lovino paused and peered down at Antonio. "I think we're 'official' enough. Enough for me. I don't see why anyone would want to go and spend so much money just to get a stupid marriage certificate. We already had a nice reception."

"A civil union is not the same thing, though! And, well, this time, maybe some more of my family would be there..."

"You want to have a whole fucking wedding just because _Lars_ came back from his shit parade around the country?"

"Not _just_ because him! Maybe you'll actually wear a real wedding ring! I would like that. And my brother would _have_ to come to town, then. And maybe I could meet your mama, too, if it was a real wedding."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You don't want to meet my mother, bastard. She has a horrible Sicilian accent and always wears stupid sunglasses. It's irritating."

"Come on, Lovi, It doesn't even have to be that big of a production. We could just-"

"I don't want to," Lovi said sharply, raising his voice slightly. "Drop it." Lovino has learned how to end conversations with Antonio, perfected his technique. If you get aggressive, Antonio will stop.

Antonio was cut off mid-sentence, and paused before nodding his head dejectedly, obviously a bit disappointed. Lovino went back to reading, ignoring his feeling of regret over how harsh he'd come off as.

Antonio continued to struggle to stay awake, but eventually gave in.

"Good night, amado," he said, his voice soft from fatigue and caution of making Lovino angry again.

"Good night."

Antonio yawned a d pulled the blanket partially over his face. Lovino

glanced over at him, peacefully trying to fall asleep, and smiled. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so defensive over it all.

"Tonio, come here."

"Mmm?" he hummed, tired.

"Put your head here, bastard," he said affectionately, scooting down to lay flat next to Antonio and putting his hand on his chest. Antonio peeked one eye open, saw what he meant, and flopped over to do as Lovino said, head on Lovino's chest and one arm thrown over his side. Lovino put the tablet aside and ran his hands through Antonio's hair, kissing the top of his head. Antonio was already half asleep again.

"Love you," he whispered. Lovino knew he didn't say it often, and felt silly saying it at all. Antonio was asleep though, and didn't answer.

Lovino had been completely serious in what he had said to Lars. If he hurt Antonio in any way, he'd be gone. Antonio and Bella might trust him openly again, but Lovino's memory was not so short term.


	45. Mistake after Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, fuck,” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden ache. He felt the bruise with gentle fingers. His jaw was wholly swollen.   
> “What the fucked happened last night?” he muttered to himself, putting his cold hand to his head as it started to pound as well.

What Lars realized first was that his eyes stung. He pulled his blanket over his face to shield himself form the sunlight, and nudged his jaw by accident.

"Oh, fuck," he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden ache. He felt the bruise with gentle fingers. His jaw was wholly swollen.

"What the fucked happened last night?" he muttered to himself, putting his cold hand to his head as it started to pound as well.

Lars patted around his night stand until he found his pair of sunglasses. "Oh my _god._ " He rubbed his eyelids, trying to remember.

He remembered being with Yao, and then he drew a blank. Had Ivan been there? That couldn't be right.

A short flash of a memory, a kiss, and a punch, and Lars remembered.

"Shit, shit."

He groaned and laid back in bed. How much had he drank? Apparently enough to make an even bigger mess of everything.

* * *

Ivan sat at his table staring at his toast. The bags under his eyes made him look angry, but he was too tired to have any outstanding emotion. His head hurt and he felt exhausted enough to be sick. It had possibly been the worst night he'd ever had. He couldn't sleep. He had rent due soon, he though. He had to go to the bank. He should be applying for a second job.

Not only was _his_ rent due, but Yekaterina's was too.

He used these other concerns to distract himself from yesterday's event, where he was still unsure morally of where he stood.

If he let himself think on it, he started to second guess everything he'd done. Should he not have followed Yao? Should he not have sat and watched, but perhaps greeted them outright, so that Lars wouldn't have even tried anything? He had to admit, in retrospect, he'd acted very creepily.

But really, what was he to do? Once they had kissed, Yao had seen him, and then they were arguing. It all happened so fast, and Lars came over, and Ivan, well, he's always known himself to have a temper.

That temper had gotten himself a reputation in his home village, and he was sure Natalya still used the threat of calling her brother to keep her peers in line and away from her.

But that wasn't what he was concerned with currently. There were too many other things. Ivan couldn't even bring himself to eat his toast. Ivan wanted to go home. He wanted to give up on this American dream thing. He couldn't do it.

He left the toast on the table and went to his bedroom He pulled out the letter he'd received from his sisters and read it over and over, lying on his bed.

* * *

Yao had brought Lars home and iced his jaw for him that night as he fell over himself drunkenly.

Yao shouldn't have helped him, really. He'd gotten himself into the whole predicament, and he could deal with it himself, but Yao had to drive him home anyway, and Yao pitied him, so he figured he may as well.

When he got home, he responded to Ivan's excessive texting and collapsed on his bed.

He dreamed like he was still awake, and there were moments when he couldn't tell the difference. One after another, shorts snapshots of memories played out in front of him. He saw himself having breakfast with Kiku and Mei, looked like it was from middle school. His mother served them dishes full of food. He dreamed about culinary school, too, with Francis and Bella. During all of these, Yao was conscious that he was dreaming. He could tell. These were all memories of his, none very outstanding or particularly happy or otherwise.

After the fourth or fifth of these benevolent little dreams, however, they took a turn for the worse. He was on the ground in his childhood home, a shattered vase beside him and his hands full of shards, a red hand print forming on his face, and he was forcing himself not to cry.

He was in a hospital wing. Yao knew this memory already. It has haunted him before. His uncle sat outside a particular room, staring at the ground. At the sound of Yao's approach he glanced up. Yao already knew who was lying in the room. His uncle's eyes did not shine like they usually did; he wasn't smiling. Yao heard himself say "Mom?" before the scene was ripped away.

Now he felt himself waking up. He felt soft sheets beneath him and a fluffy blanket over his shoulders. He was snuggled up to a warm body, head on their bony shoulder. Their arms were around Yao, cradling him tenderly. Ivan? Did yesterday really even happen?

Yao didn't want to open his eyes. If he kept them shut, maybe he could make sense of these terrible dreams. He snuggled closer to the other. He heard a chuckle, and the arms tightened around him. That wasn't Ivan's laugh.

In his head, Yao felt dread washing over him, but his dream body didn't heed his mind's warnings. He yawned and peered up at his partner.

Lars. Lars smiled back at him, tired, and kissed Yao's lips. "Good morning, lief."

"Good morning," Yao replied. Lars' hair was flat, bangs falling over his forehead. Yao, the conscious part of his brain, remembered how his hair fell in the morning and he remembered waking up like this, but he also remembered that Lars never ever acted like this (bitterly, this part of his mind reminded him that his hair was never like this anymore for its absence). He never kissed Yao like this, greeted him so nicely.

Dream-Lars resituated himself onto his side to face Yao, he held Yao close.

The other dreams had been memories from long ago, which Yao had most forgotten. This, however, was completely unreal. This was unbelievable. His mind was exceptionally cruel for concocting this illusion.

Yao gasped awake. His bed was cold and empty.

* * *

Sadiq was the only bouncer that night. He got home late and tired and didn't even bother turning the light on as he undressed. Only when he laid down on his bed did he realize someone else was with him.

Herakles was curled up on the other side.

"Herakles?" Sadiq asked, not bothering to quiet himself. He didn't know why, but it appeared that Herakles was pretending to be asleep. A sleeping Herakles would spread himself out to cover the entire bed, like a cat. "I know you're not asleep."

There was a moment before Herakles rolled onto his back to look at Sadiq. "You caught me."

"So you finally decided to drag yourself back in here? You assume you're welcome back to bed? I think you should sleep on the couch, you brat."

Herakles scoffed. "I think you'll let me stay here because I'm naked," he said bluntly. It was arrogant of him to assume that Sadiq would jump onto the implications of that, but he wasn't wrong.

"Oh really?" However, Sadiq did not so easily let go of opportunities to pester Herakles. "What, you came back because you were horny? I suppose that means you weren't messing around, at least."

"You think I couldn't get some if I wanted?" Herakles scoffed again, but scooted in for a kiss. "I was worried about _you_. Unless you've been unfaithful, of course." Sadiq laid beside Herakles and continued pressing kisses to his lips, and scoffed at that accusation.

"What? You're the one whose been hanging around Kiku. How do I know you haven't been messing around with him?"

Herakles rolled his eyes slowly. "Kiku's asexual."

"Oh, so you're only coming to me for the good stuff?" Sadiq shot back jokingly, kissing down his neck.

"Please, Kiku's just as good as you idiot, just no sex."

Sadiq paused there. "What?"

Herakles, oblivious, shrugged.

"Just as good as me?" Sadiq didn't like the implications of that. "What does that mean?"

Herakles caught on to what Sadiq was thinking, now. He hesitated. "I- Sadiq don't get ahead of yourself."

"Then explain." Sadiq sat back on his knees, and his voice was raised a bit.

"Well, I wasn't prepared to explain quite yet."

"Quite _yet?"_ conveyed a heart sinking feeling. It was quiet and small, until he took that shocked broken feeling into anger. _"_ You mean you weren't expecting to get _caught_." He pulled away to sit at the edge of the bed, away from Herakles. Hadn't he just told Gupta that this was his main concern just mere days ago?

"No, Sadiq wait, I'll explain. I like you, okay?"

" _Like_?" Sadiq sneered angrily.

"I like Kiku, too."

Sadiq took a deep breath. Herakles put a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to look back at him. Sadiq shrugged his hand off, expressing his chagrin. "If you like Kiku so much, why don't you just stay with him? Why do you have to keep coming back? Just make it easy on yourself- and me. Just," he sighed. He didn't know what else to say.

"Idiot, I didn't say I liked Kiku _more_ than you, did I? I like _both_ of you."

"Well, that's too bad, huh? Because you can't _have_ both. But you're too selfish to give one of us up, aren't you? Brat."

"Actually," Herakles corrected him, smiling slyly, "Kiku and I have been talking, and we think we might have a compromise."

* * *

"You're going to be alright here?" Alfred asked Arthur. He had helped move Arthur to a smaller apartment, since he wouldn't be needing the space when Alfred was gone.

"I'll be fine, wanker." Arthur was worried about having a long distance relationship, despite how long they had been together, though he didn't want to let it show. It would be embarrassing for Alfred to know.

"Well, you know you can call me if anything happens. I'm only four or five hours away over the mountains and I could come home if you needed me."

Arthur nodded at the ground. He didn't want to look at Alfred for fear of letting him see his concern.

"We'll be calling each other a lot anyway, right? Every day. And you'll keep me up to date on what's happening at the club." Alfred smiled broadly and bent down so Arthur couldn't avoid eye contact, pushily looking right into Arthur's face. Arthur looked back at him, though begrudgingly, and smiled back. His smile was less natural than Alfred's.

Arthur knew that on the days that Alfred would work from dawn to dusk on the ranch, he'd have no cell coverage and that they'd eventually stop calling each other and fall out of contact.

"Well, I'd better get going. Emma expects me for dinner tonight."

Arthur just nodded again. He looked at his feet. Alfred took his jaw in hand and tipped his head back up. He smiled and kissed him. When they pulled away, Alfred, kept Arthur there and looked into his eyes for a long moment. Arthur felt embarrassed; this was much too cliche. Alfred pecked his lips one more tiemtime

Arthur nodded.

"See ya Arthur."

"Bye."

He swung the pick-up door shut. The engine sprang to life and Alfred waved as he drove away.

Arthur had had a girlfriend in England before he left for America. They'd had plans for her to come to America in a few years. However, about a month after he'd left, they broke up and fallen out of contact altogether. They had been talking about getting married, and had been much more serious that even he and Alfred were.

* * *

Ivan dragged himself to the bank. He only had about twenty dollars to deposit, but that was still about seven hundred rubles.

He was exhausted still and simply went through the motions. He glanced at the numbers but didn't comprehend any of it. He trusted it to be correct. He deposited the twenty dollars and was about to end his sign in when the meaning behind the number figures clicked. That wasn't right.

Since He'd gotten the news from Natalya, he had deposited a total of about three hundred USD, which equaled about ten thousand, five hundred, in rubles. Most of it was taken and spent already, and there was about a hundred rubles left before Ivan's last transaction. That's how it should be, according to Ivan's calculations. Now there should be a total of eight hundred rubles.

The little number next to 'total', however, didn't add up in Ivan's mind.

70,800 RB.

There was no way. That would fix all of their problems. But there was no way. Ivan didn't let himself imagine that it was true. There had to be a mistake. He wished it could be true. He went to the bank teller.

"Excuse me, I think there was a mistake with my bank account. There was a deposit of two thousand dollars. Could I see where from?"

Ivan figured it was likely a mistake of Natalya's. How she could 'accidentally' misplace seven thousand rubles, Ivan had no idea, but it was his only guess.

"Let me look it up here. Please give me your information." Ivan gave her his numbers and she entered it into the computer database.

"Looks like it was wired from New York." Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"

New York? Ivan didn't know anyone in New York. "Is there any way it was sent mistakenly? I don't know anyone there."

"No, our transactions are very secure."

Ivan nodded. "Is there any way I could find out whose account it came from? I don't understand how this could have happened."

The teller frowned. "No, our privacy policies prevent us from sharing our customer details. I'm sorry."

Ivan nodded. Somehow, this wasn't a mistake. Someone just _gave_ them two thousand American dollars. Ivan had no idea why anyone- a stranger especially- would do such a thing.

However, it did mean that they could afford their rents and food and medicine for Yekaterina. Ivan was in shock.

But who was it from?

 


	46. Friendly Kisses (or: No Homo!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're friends."
> 
> "And?"
> 
> "And what? We're friends."
> 
> "Not dating?"
> 
> Lukas raised and eyebrow and frowned. "Dating? Matthias? Why would I want to date Matthias?"

Natalya called the next day.

"Where did you get that money, Vanya?" her voice was full of suspicion.

"I have no idea," Ivan answered honestly.

"Ivan," she said stiffly. "I hop you didn't do anything regretful."

"Natalya, please. I wasn't that desperate yet. I don't even know where it came from, honest."

Natalya paused and Ivan could imagine her calculating face, digesting this, considering whether to take his word.

"Okay, Ivan. I don't know what that means, but I trust you to be careful. This money will take care of Katya and I until she can get back to work. Thank you. Goodbye." She hung up.

Ivan put the phone in his pocket. Of course Natalya would assume the worst thing that Ivan could have down as soon as a large sum of money appeared in the account.

A text came and his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Do you want to come to the gym?_

It was from Tino. Ivan frowned. He really didn't feel like going.

_I'm busy, sorry._

* * *

Tino sat on the bench, looking at his phone. Berwald was working and Emil was in school. Matthias was lifting weights and Lukas was perched on a bench across from Tino. When Tino got the text from Ivan, he sighed and put his phone away. He was so bored and feeling the part of the third wheel.

Lukas was snarking at Matthias about something, probably telling him to have better posture. Tino fiddled with his engagement ring. He twisted it around his finger and watched it glitter in the different angles.

Matthias and Lukas were two of his closest friends, don't get him wrong, but right now he seriously felt extraneous. He glanced around the room, hand still twisting his ring. He caught Lukas watching him fiddle with it. As soon as they made eye contact, Lukas quickly looked away, turning to glare absently at Matthias as he obliviously continued to work out.

Tino raised a brow. How odd.

He didn't say anything about it until much later, but thought about that fleeting glance of- what? Jealousy? Resentment?

Tino knew that Matthias and Lukas weren't very open about their relationship- had never heard either of them talk about dates or even the fact that they were dating. Maybe they were having issues. For once, Tino had no idea, because he had no sources to hear about it from.

Lukas had left to pick Emil up from school, and it proved to be the perfect time to ask Matthias about it.

"So, how are you and Lukas?"

"Hm? We're fine? No health issues," Matthias grinned. "Is that what you were asking? It's a bit random to ask that."

"No, I mean your _relationship_."

"Our relationship? Well, you know we're best buddies!" Matt sat the weights down and collapsed onto a bench, wiping sweat from his face.

Tino didn't know what to say. "That's good, but I'm talking about how you're _dating_ -relationship is."

"Dating? I don't know what you mean," Matthias smiled absently. He resumed that face-splitting grin, though, to end his statement. He had nothing more to say. He was a man of few and simple words, and plainly expressed what he thought.

"What? But you two had dinner together. On Valentines."

Matthias shrugged. "As friends."

Tino was incredulous. "I've seen you two kiss before!"

"Friendly kisses."

Tino didn't even know what to say. Lukas and Matthias already acted like they were married, and here he was saying that they were just friends?

"You joked about having a double wedding with Ber and I!"

"Come on, Tino, that was just a joke. Luke and I have been buddies since middle school! We're like friend-married."

"Friend-husbands who kiss and have romantic dinners."

Matthias grinned and scowled playfully. "I don't know what you're suggesting."

He was serious. Tino was honestly shocked. Matthias was seriously saying that he and Lukas were just friends.

"Well, I'm going to help Emil with some woodworking projects he has to do for school. I promised I'd show him how to make a bookshelf. Lukas is too busy."

Tino nodded, in a daze. "Yeah, okay." Matthias got up and went to the shower. Tino stayed and sat and thought, 'I thought they've been dating for year.'

He'd have to ask Lukas about this.

* * *

At work, Sadiq came and sat at the bar as usual.

"I think Herakles and I are better."

"Oh yeah?" Tino asked. Finally.

"Yeah. And I think I might be a threesome, too."

"What?" If Tino was drinking something, he would've spit it out.

"Yeah. I'm not completely sure yet."

"How can you be unsure about this?"

"It is an unexpected twist in the course of my love life, okay? A little disorienting to have that pulled on you all of a sudden."

Tino nodded. Arthur came in and set his jacket down. He looked irritated.

"What's wrong with you?"

Arthur scoffed. "Whatever do you mean? I have no idea what would be wrong. I can't believe the idiot actually left and went to live on a bloody ranch. I just can't believe it."

Oh. Of course, today was when the new DJ started, which meant it was when Alfred left.

Speaking of which, Antonio should be coming around to introduce the newbie.

As if on cue, Antonio clapped for everyone's attention up by the DJ equipment. "Pay attention to me, please! As you know, Alfred has gone on to something new, and so we have a new team member to welcome! Everyone, this is Angelique, she's going to come around and meet you all!"

She was a bubbly islander girl, from where exactly Tino couldn't tell. Her hair was in long pig tails. Her dress was bright and made her look very young.

She came right over to the bar. "Hi Arthur! I haven't seen you in forever!"

"What?" Tino asked, looking to Arthur questioningly.

"I'm sorry, where do I know you from?"

"You were Francis' boyfriend a long time ago. Don't you remember. Francis was my big brother through the big brothers big sisters program?"

"Oh. Right, of course. Francis is how you got this job, then, too.?"

She nodded, smiling.

Francis appeared beside Angelique, paying no attention to Arthur or Tino as he pulled Angelique into a friendly hug. They spoke in French for a moment, Francis presumably congratulating Angelique on her new job.

Tino glanced at Arthur. He knew Arthur and Francis had dated, and that it had ended on bad terms, but now Arthur was watching the two with a surprised, rather pleasant expression. Tino didn't know Francis had been part of the Big Brother's program.

Francis finally acknowledged who Angelique had been talking to before he'd arrived. "Ah, Angel, why are you talking to such a stuffy, boring person as _Arthur_?" he joked.

"Eh, you know what, you old frog?"

Arthur didn't get to tell him what, because Angelique interrupted them with a laugh.

"You guys are the same as always. You bicker like my grandparents." She laughed at Francis' horror at the implications of the statement, and turned to go talk to new people.

"I am _not_ old!" he called indignantly after her.

* * *

Tino drove up to Ballard for the fish market the next day, and decided to drop by the Locks and see if he couldn't find Lukas.

Unfortunately, Lukas was already off for the day. He'd have to drop by Lukas' house, then. Tino decided that he was interested enough in the Lukas-Matthias ordeal to go.

Lukas answered the door within a moment, and didn't show his surprised on finding Tino there.

"Come in. I'm making some food for my Mom. Are you hungry?"

"No thanks. Arthur and I are meeting for lunch today."

Lukas nodded and led him to the living room.

"Let me bring food upstairs and I'll come talk then."

"Of course."

Lukas went to the kitchen and appeared again a moment later with a tray and went up the big staircase.

The home that Lukas lived in with his mother rand brother was abut a hundred a fifty years old. His great great grandfather immigrated from Norway and built the house on their homestead. Tino always loved the old house, even if it was dark and dank and mold often grew on the ceilings. The wood was hand carved and ornamented. It was very grand. Berwald would sit and admire the wood carvings forever when he came along.

Lukas took care of the house and his family, and held the only job and source of income for his household. His mother had been a teacher up until about four years ago. She'd had a stroke and was now bedridden. She was only forty-eight.

Lukas came back down a moment later and sat on the ancient couch across from the seat that Tino occupied.

"So, how are you? Do you want something to drink?" Lukas asked, like a good host.

"No thanks. I just wanted to ask you something."

"Well, go ahead. "

"What is your relationship with Matthias?"

Lukas paused, but betrayed no emotion. "What?"

"Just answer, please."

"We're friends."

"And?"  
  
"And what? We're friends."

"Not dating?"

Lukas raised and eyebrow and frowned. "Dating? Matthias? Why would I want to date Matthias?"

"I've- you guys kiss!"

"We're European, Tino, don't be stupid."

"Do not even-" Lukas I know that Matthias can be dumb but there is no way you are actually that oblivious of how you guys-"

"Tino, we're just friend. I know you liked to play matchmaker or whatever, but please don't stick your nose in this when it doesn't belong there. Even if I did like Matt that way, I'm too busy for something like a relationship," Lukas shut him down quickly.

He seemed upset that Tino brought this up, so Tino dropped it, "Damn, okay, you don't have to get so defensive." Tino had been expecting some sheepish explanation or some other more relaxed conversation.

"My brother's getting home soon and I need to make food for him. Do you have anything else to talk about?"

Tino, now, was embarrassed and unsure of what to say. "No, sorry. I didn't mean to be upsetting."

Lukas shrugged. "It's okay," he said, and led Tino back to the door.

Tino knew there was something going on, now. If there was nothing, Lukas would say 'no' and move on. Or maybe Tino was just misinterpreting it all.

He'd have to ask Emil about it. In fact, he could text him right now. Sitting in his car, Tino typed out,

_What do you think about Matthias and your brother?"_

Tino sent this right before he left the driveway.

When he got home, he checked and found that Emil had responded.

_They're practically married and will go to their death to deny it. Lukas more so than Matthias. Neither of them will admit any sort of homo-romantic feelings. It's very much there, though, and very much suffocating._

Tino considered this. So he wasn't the only one who thought so, then.

_Yeah_ , he replied, _but why?_

* * *

Kyle invited Tino and Berwald over for a barbeque.

He lived in a housing development near the water and his home was huge. Tino wondered what a guy like Kyle could do for a living and afford such a place.

"I'll warn you first, Berwald," Tino started as they sat in the car in front of Kyle's home. "He's not very... sharp."

Berwald hummed. "I'll see."

Peter was bouncing in the back seat, excited to see Lacey. "Let's go, let's go!" he whined impatiently.

Berwald and Tino sighed in sync, and the three of them walked to the front door.

Kyle answered the door immediately. "Hey, mates! I hope you like lamb, it's already on the barbie!"

Peter ran inside at the sight of Lacey as Tino and Berwald hung up their coats.

"Eh, kids, if you're gonna run around, do it in the backyard. But not by the grill!"

Lacey took Peter's hand and they ran to the backyard.

"You want something to drink? I've got beer and apple juice." Kyle looked at them and grinned. Tino was unimpressed. "I'm kidding! There's also coke and water in the fridge. I'm Kyle, by the way. I don't think I've met you," he shook Berwald's hand. Berwald nodded.

"Berwald. I'll have a beer."

"A coke. I'll be driving us home."

"Right, here you go." There was a commotion from the backyard. "We should probably go out with them, yeah?"

The three went out to the backyard, Tino and Berwald taking seats at the table on the back porch. Kyle checked on the grill.

"How do you like your meat?"

Tino told him rare for himself and well done for Berwald.

"So where are you from, Kyle? If you don't mind me asking."

"Sydney, Australia. And what about you? Almost no one I meet around here is from here originally."

"I'm from Helsinki. Well, technically I'm from a little town about fifty miles out of Helsinki, but very close to there."

"Really? I love Helsinki. I worked there a few years ago, actually. My roommate was Finnish and really into all the traditional Finnish things. Lacey was just a little thing, and my roommate would play the kantele for her at night sometimes."

Tino was very surprised. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. The kantele is one our favorite instruments. What about you Berwald? Where are you from?"

"Minneapolis."

"Now that's somewhere I've never been. My job has sent me to Buenes Aires and Seoul and Moscow, Paris and Tel Aviv, but I've never been to any other American city. Isn't that funny?"

"Really?" Tino was very surprised. "What's your job?"

"Well, I'm a nuclear physicist. I design plants and work on the engineering bits. People usually get bored listening to me talk about it."

"Really? I'm just surprised."

"Hah, yeah, people usually are. Apparently I come off as an airhead."

Tino felt bad assuming anything now. Kyle was just apt to say some stupid tings. He was a genuinely nice guy.

"So you move around a lot?"

Kyle nodded, "We moved in here just a few months ago."

"Well, if you don't mind me asking, how did Lacey come into all of this?"

"Oh, well, you see I had had a girlfriend in college in Sydney, and she got pregnant just as I was offered this job and sent me out to Tel Aviv. Like a year later she contacted me and asked me where I was staying and she appeared out of nowhere a few days later, gave me this baby and disappeared. I haven't even heard from her since. She didn't want a baby and I didn't have the heart to give her up for adoption, you know?" Tino nodded. "And what about Peter, if that's okay to ask?"

Tino glanced uncertainly at Berwald. Was it okay to tell? Berwald gave him a look.

"It's okay if you don't want to."

Tino nodded gratefully.

"Yeah, well, how long have you two been together, then? I see your rings. That's sweet."

"Yeah, we've been together a few years, since I was nineteen. Twenty one? Since I was twenty one. We're getting married in December."

Kyle smiled. "That's sweet."

* * *

Yao knocked on Lars' door. His phone was shut off and in his pocket, to avoid taking pity on Ivan and his many texts.

Lars took a moment to answer the door.

"Yao?"

Lars looked like shit. His jaw was brown and purple and his eyes were red. He did not look to be taking good care of himself.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"No. I just came to tell you not to text me anymore. Not for a while. I'm upset about what you did."

Lars frowned with the side of his mouth that wasn't completely swollen.

"God, I'm so sorry. I didn't _mean_ to-"

"You _did_ , though, and now Ivan and I are arguing. But I want to know. Do you seriously have feelings for me still?"

"I-" Lars looked away, ashamed.

"That's all I need. Please stay away from me. Goodbye." He turned and walked away down the driveway.

"I didn't mean to come between you two! I'm sorry!" Lars called after him. Yao didn't respond, nor did he turn back.

 


	47. Don't Want Neighbors To See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stared at each other in shock for a moment. Roderich cleared his throat and straightened his jacket and glasses.
> 
> "Good bye."
> 
> Vash just nodded, speechless as Roderich climbed out of his car.

Yao, _I'm really sorry._

_Please, just respond?_

_It's been a few days._

_Do you want to talk it out? I'm sorry._

Ivan felt pathetic, texting Yao so much. He was concerned about the other's silence. He was worried that Yao was really, really, made, to the point where he might just not talk to him again.

_Yekaterina's going to be okay, by the way._ Yao might not be answering, but Ivan still felt better typing it out and telling someone. Yekaterina _was_ going to be okay.

Yao wanted to go see Elizaveta. The coffee shop was almost empty when he arrived. Roderich wasn't there, even, and Liza was bustling around behind the counter idly.

"Hey Yao! What's wrong?"

"What? I haven't even _said_ anything." Yao resented her ability to read him so easily. He resented it even more strongly since he actually started having things to gossip about.

Elizaveta gave him a look.

"Fine, Ivan and I are arguing."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. You want a drink? You can tell me about it."

Yao nodded. Elizaveta was so motherly.

Yao leaned against the counter as she went about making the drink for him.

He was going to have to tell her everything, he already knew. He was going OT feel so foolish.

He heard her as she poured syrups and steamed milk and heard it as she sealed the lid on to the cup. It slipped, though, and she accidentally shoved it off the counter. He heard it splat on the ground.

"Shit," she muttered. Yao turned quickly to try and help clean it up.

"Let me help, it's okay," Yao said, coming around behind the counter and grabbing the rag from Liza's hand. He bent and wiped at the splatter.

The door bell jiggled and Yao could see Eliza fixing her hair quickly.

"Hi, idiot," she said with a smile.

"Idiot is not an appealing pet name! Jerk." It was Gilbert. Yao grinned. Elizaveta wouldn't tell Gilbert that Yao was there- it would be awkward for Gilbert to find Yao kneeling beside her. She still tried to keep her relationship with Gilbert private (even after Valentines) despite Yao's pushy investigations. But this time she had no option. She had to act natural for Gilbert.

"I don't need you to fix anything today. Why'd you come by?"

"Do I need a reason to come by and see my lady?" he grinned (Yao, of course, couldn't see his grin, but he could _hear_ it).

Yao finished wiping up the mess and grinned up at Elizaveta. She glanced down at him from the corner of her eye, saw his grin, and kicked him.

Gilbert leaned over the counter and kissed her with a grin. "I have a present for you."

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

"Close your eyes," he snickered.

She sighed and tiredly complied. Yao couldn't see what Gilbert held out, but he placed it in Elizaveta's hands. She took it and opened it (a box?), and said, "How did you get this? Gilbert..." She obviously liked it, but seemed uneasy. It must be expensive looking.

"I might owe Ludwig some money over it, but that's okay. He never expects me to pay him back, anyway."

"Gilbert, you have to stop taking advantage of your brother."

"What! He loves paying for his awesome big brother! Imagine how boring his poor accountant life would be without me. Do you like it, though?"

"It's... beautiful. I'll put it on later."

"Come on, I want to see it on you."  
"Too bad, I'm working right now. Roderich will be back soon, too."

Gilbert scoffed. "I don't care."

Elizaveta sighed, faking irritation. She hooked the necklace around her neck.

"You look hot," Gilbert grinned.

"Shut up, brat breath."

"Rude. I have to get going, though. I've got a job today. See ya, babe.'

"Yeah, get out."  
  
When Gilbert was gone and out the door, Yao stood and grinned at Elizaveta.

"He's surprisingly sweet to you."

Liza shrugged. "We're not going to talk about me. Tell me about your issues. Do you still want coffee?"

"Not, it's okay."

"Alright. .I'm washing up right now, but please tell me everything."

"Well, there really isn't much. You remember that Lars is back? He asked me to get a drink with him. Well, he got drunk and kind of kissed me and for some reason, Ivan was there- probably spying but I'm not sure- and he punched Lars in the face."

"So you're mad he punched Lars? Is that what your problem is?"

"Well, not exactly. I wanted to punch him, too."

"So what exactly _is_ your problem?"

Yao paused and considered how to word it. "He doesn't trust me, I guess. HE didn't trust me enough to take care of the situation myself. He followed me to the bar!"

Elizaveta made a sympathetic sound. "Well, Yao, you can take my most experienced word for it when I tell you that boys are stupid. You have to sit them down and outline this all out for them. When I was separating from Roderich, the poor guy didn't understand. I had to spell it out for him. When I started dating Gilbert, I sat him down and told him straight how I expected to be treated. It's been so much better for it."

Yao thought about it. "That sounds reasonable. I'll try that. In a few days, thought, once I cool down a little more. Now I want to hear about how you and Roderich divorced, though. You've never told me."

Elizaveta took a moment to find the words. "He always seemed so distant. There were weird tensions that he always had about certain things and he never explained them to me and they didn't make sense. I decided that it wasn't a situation I wanted to stay in for my whole life. I think I married him because he was cute and nice. Unfortunately, you can't raise a family on things like that alone. And he was talking about that! He started talking about _children_. I would never be able to raise kids with him. We just didn't connect well enough. He was looking for someone different from me."

"You think he needs someone more like Vash, huh?"

Elizaveta smiled. "He never did tell me what happened after they left on Valentines."

* * *

Roderich had left the restaurant in a hurry. He didn't know how he'd get home- he had counted on Elizaveta to give him a ride. HE didn't notice that Vash had followed him out until he turned toward the street to catch a bus.

"Where are you going, idiot?"

Roderich jumped and turned to glare at Vash.

"You don't have a ride, do you. I'll drop you off at your place." It was _not_ because Vash _cared_ about Roderich, but he'd get a headache hearing about Roderich getting mugged or something. It was purely from a perspective of self preservation that he offered the ride. Really!

Roderich scoffed. "I don't need a ride, not from _you_."

Vash rolled his eyes. "I don't think there's another bus this late, idiot."

Roderich glared. Vash was right. "I hate you. Where's your car."

"I don't like you either, idiot. My sister would get upset if you died or something, though."

Vash had a little old car that he had to unlock before he could power unlock Roderich's door.

Vash followed the directions that Roderich gave to him and was surprised when they didn't get completely lost.

He was not surprised, however, when they pulled up in front of a fashionable apartment building in downtown.

"Thank you," Roderich said reluctantly as they sat in front of his building. Did he leave, now? It was so awkward.

Roderich moved to unbuckle, leaning to the side and toward Vash. This was a really, really shitty old car though, and his buckle was jammed.

"Oh, sorry, it sticks sometimes. Let me get it..." Vash leaned over and jostled the buckle until it released.

Only then did Vash realize how awkwardly close they were. He was in a daze, he would claim- they would both claim- but suddenly they were kissing. Roderich's hair was really soft, too. And his tongue was _way too friendly._ Vash pulled back, amazed that he hadn't pulled back sooner. They stared at each other in shock for a moment. Roderich cleared his throat and straightened his jacket and glasses.

"Good bye."

Vash just nodded, speechless as Roderich climbed out of his car.

* * *

That's why Roderich was at Vash's apartment today. He'd been thinking ab out that kiss, and he wanted to make sure the other knew that it meant _nothing_.

Vash answered sleepily (okay maybe it was six thirty in the morning and no one was awake at this time), still in his night gown. Vash had assumed that the visitor would be his sister, so he hadn't bothered to put any real clothes on.

"Cute gown," Roderich scoffed as greeting.

"Roderich? What the hell are you doing here, idiot?"

"Nothing for personal reasons, if that's what you're thinking."

"Would never dream of that. Come inside, I don't want neighbors to see you and think you're a friend, or something."

Roderich obliged, continuing their bickering without skipping a beat, but staying close to the door.

"I wanted to make sure you knew that that thing that happened on Valentines did not mean anything."

"It was an accident," Vash declared in agreement.

"Of course. Nothing else."

"Of course. What, you came all the way here just to say that? You really are an idiot." Vash was close to him, in his face.

"You have stupid hair."

"I really hate you."

"I hate you, too," Roderich replied sharply, trying to use his height advantage to look down at Vash. Vash snarled angrily and shoved Roderich against the door.

And then maybe they kissed. Vash pressed his hands into Roderich's rib cage, aggressively grabbing his hair and pulling. Roderich groaned. Neither of them were really surprised it ended up like this.

Vash's hands wandered under Roderich's shirt, and Roderich shuddered.

"Bed?" someone asked, short of breath.

"Yes."

* * *

At work, everyone was rather alarmed by the huge, ugly bruise on Lars' face. IT was the first time he'd come to work since Ivan punched him. Ivan was also coming to work for the first time since then, because Sadiq had worked the past few days alone.

"Do you know what happened to him?" Tino asked Arthur quietly. Of course Arthur would know.

"I'll tell you later."

Arthur watched Lars and Ivan closely, to make sure they didn't confront each other again.

Only halfway through the night did Antonio call Lars to one side. He looked concerned and Arthur tried to lip read what he was saying- 'What happened to you?'

Lars shrugged it off and turned away dismissively. Antonio grabbed his shoulder. There was something wrong with Lars face. He was more distant even than usual- Arthur had noticed that earlier that night, too. He considered texting Yao and asking if there was something that he was missing.

'Seriously Lars, you need to tell me these things.'

Arthur couldn't see Lars' face now, but he could tell that something was not good bye Antonio's reaction. Antonio looked shocked and outraged.

Antonio quickly glanced around. Was he looking for Ivan? Arthur assumed so. Antonio looked angry.

This wasn't going to go over well.

_Yao, Lars just told Antonio about Ivan. It doesn't look good, mate._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I'm going to warn you now that the next couple chapters might sound like tangents and you might get bored BUT they ARE CONNECTED TO THE STORY YOU JUST HAVE TO PULL THROUGH OKAY
> 
> thank you good night don't forget to review i love you


	48. It's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are an absolute child, aren't you? I can't even comprehend how immature you are. If you have a problem, you can take it out with me. But oh no, like the child you are, you have to get others involved. I can't believe it."

Yao was baking cookies.

He'd had a horrible dream, and this time Kiku was not around to nag him, so he was baking.

The phone buzzed and Yao paused his stirrign to read over what it said.

This could be trouble for Ivan, if Antonio was mad. Antonio was his _boss_. It's generally frowned upon to punch your boss' cousin. What was Lars thinking, telling him? Of course, it _was_ Ivan's own fault that he did that in the first place.

But it was immature of Lars to go and tattle like that. Was he trying to get Ivan into trouble on purpose? Ivan would surely be scolded, especially if Lars skewed the facts in his favor- and of course Antonio would take Lars' word over Ivan's.

Yao thought through all of this calmly, but inside he felt like boiling over. A tension headache was forming over his brow.

Lars never told the truth to his family, so why did he have to start now? Was it because he was mad bout Yao for shutting him down like he did the other day?

Yao sat and silently steamed for minutes. What was he going to do? He couldn't' let Ivan possibly lose his job over Yao's stupid ex.

Yao stood and left.

* * *

Antonio didn't approach Ivan until after the club closed. Arthur was watching everything, mentally documenting it to report to Yao later.

Bella had come before any of it started; apparently she had some business to talk about with Antonio. She and Lars chatted, and Bella fussed over his bruise. She hadn't seen it before.

Tino whispered to Arthur as he wiped down the glasses. "What's going on?"

Arthur shook his head. He couldn't explain right now.

Antonio was talking with Lovino about something (Arthur figured Antonio was telling Lovino about Ivan and Lars). Ivan went to the bar. He has not yet been spoken to.

"What's up with Antonio? He's weird tonight," Ivan asked Arthur.

"He knows what happened with Lars. Or at least that you punched him. I don't know if it's going to be very pleasant if he talks to you about it."

"Oh."

Antonio seemed to have overheard them or had impeccable timing, because right then was when he came and tapped Ivan on the shoulder. "Ivan, can I talk to you?"

Arthur frowned at Ivan as he went. Antonio led Ivan to one corner- which was good, it wasn't somewhere private like his office. Tino and Arthur glanced at each other nervously.

"Ivan, it is completely inappropriate to assault coworkers outside of work." Antonio looked more serious than Ivan had ever seen.

"Wait, let me explain the-" Ivan tried.

"No, you listen to me..."

Arthur could tell Antonio was holding back.

His attention was momentarily sidetracked however when he received a text.

_Let me in._ It was from Yao.

_What do you mean?_

_Come open the side door._

Arthur glanced at Tino before going to the backroom and opening the door. Yao stood there, looking royally pissed off.

"Where's Lars?" he asked, passing by Arthur quickly.

"Yao, you maybe don't want to rush into this-"

"Shut up. I'm taking care of this once and for all."

Yao burst into the main room.

"Yao?" Bella asked. She didn't look concerned, just surprised. Lars looked more alarmed than anyone else.

Yao didn't pay any attention to anyone else, just walked right over to Lars, shoving his shoulder so he faced him directly.

"You are an absolute child, aren't you? I can't even comprehend how immature you are. If you have a problem, you can take it out with me. But oh no, like the child you are, you have to get _other_ s involved. I can't believe it."

"Yao! Don't talk to him like that!" Bella cried, trying to step between the two.

Yao shook his head, disgusted. "Look- you can lie to me and whoever else you want all you'd fucking like, but when you go and get your _self_ hurt-"

"What's this?" Antonio came over now, trailed by Ivan, who went and stood beside Yao, relieved that Yao was directing his anger and Lars and not him. "Is this Yao? Look here, Ivan attacked _my_ cousin, and—"

"I was telling you, that's not true!" Ivan protested. He'd just tried to explain to Antonio, but Antonio wasn't listening.

"Shut up, Ivan, don't even get me fucking started," Yao snapped. "Lars, you're so used to being able to do whatever you want without consequences. It's time to grow the fuck up, because I'm not dealing with this bullshit."

Lars calmly listened as Yao raged at him. He put up no fight. Bella and Antonio were the ones who attempted to defend him. "What the hell are you talking about, Yao?" Bella demanded.

Yao shot her a deathly look, before redirecting it at Lars. With one quick movement, Yao ripped Lars' hat off his head. Lars, shocked, snatched it back quickly.

"Why did you shave your head, Lars?" Bella was utterly taken aback.

Lars gave Yao a hurt expression. Yao raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Lars shrugged in answer to his sister. The rest of the people stilling moving around the club and closing it all down seemed to freeze. "I felt like it. I 'm a grown adult." Lars shrugged past his cousin and sister and Yao, and walked out the door. Bella, confused, floundered between looking at Antonio and Yao.

"That doesn't make sense."

Yao hesitated, before squaring his shoulders. "Lars has cancer."

"What? No he doesn't," Bella objected. "I would know if he did." Yao shrugged.

He glanced at Antonio as he turned to leave, taking hold of Ivan's sleeve. Antonio's eyes seemed to glaze over somewhat when Yao said that; he was thinking, adding everything up. All the sick days that Lars had called in, the frequent visits to the doctor, overall looking like shit. Yao was confident that while Bella would refuse to believe it at first, Antonio would understand.

Yao led Ivan out and to his car. Yao wasn't quite ready to talk it out how Elizaveta had suggested it, but he would just have to deal.

Before they pulled away, Yao saw Bella rush out from the door, undoubtedly to find Lars. Yao pitied her, but it was better that she knew.

* * *

Antonio and Bella stood in stunned silence. Everyone carefully mulled about them.

"That can't be true. Lars would've told me, if it was true, right?" Bella asked pleadingly.

Antonio didn't know what to say. They both knew that if it was true, which it looked to be, from Antonio's perspective at least, Lars would never tell them. Bella knew this too.

"Right?"

Antonio bit his lip and looked around the room. Everyone had heard the conversation. Lovino was rubbing his temples- he was getting a stress headache.

"I have to go find him." Antonio said nothing as Bella briskly walked out the door.

She found Lars sitting on a bench nearby. She sat beside him. He didn't look at her.

"You could've told me." Her voice wobbled, but she refused to cry.

He shook his head.

"Why not?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm. He shook his head again stubbornly. He really, really couldn't have told her. Look how much work he put into manipulating Yao into doing it for him. Of course, kissing him was not part of the plan. He had never planned on that part particularly, but he had thought that Yao would work more quickly on going behind his back and telling Bella.

"Why did Yao know?"

"I told him."

Bella nodded slowly. She didn't understand _why_ Lars told him, though. That was her problem.

"You know you can tell Antonio and I anything, right?"

Lars nodded.

"And you know we love you, right?"

Lars nodded again, slower. His throat hurt, and it wasn't just because of this talk. He rubbed absently at his vocal chord.

"Can you look at me, please?"

He glanced at her, scowling and frowning. There was water gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Lars," she hooked her arm around his and leaned against him. "It's okay."

* * *

Yao and Ivan went to a diner. They were silent on the drive there.

They sat and Yao order some French toast- all that anger made him hungry.

Ivan was on edge, waiting for Yao to speak to him.

"So Ivan, I think we need to talk."

Ivan nodded, "I'm so sorry-"

"No, just let me talk, actually. I know why you punched him. I don't even care. I'm curious as to how you got to the bar in the first place, but you can tell me about that later. I'm going to explain why I'm upset."

Ivan nodded. Yao didn't sound quite so angry anymore.

"I'm always treated like a kid by Kiku, and I'm never trusted to make any decision for myself. Do you know how frustrating that is? So when you came and intervened for me, like you didn't trust me, I hope you see why I was not happy."

Ivan nodded again.

"I forgive you, though. Keep this in mind for the future, though. Now tell me why you were there.'

Ivan explained it, short and sweet. "I saw Lars pick you up from the library. I was curious and I don't trust Lars- rightfully so, I might add- so I went to the bar that Lars had taken Tino and I before and I saw you two so I sat."

Yao nodded. "Next time something like that happens, I want you to trust me to take care of myself. I hope you know that I wouldn't cheat on you with Lars." Ivan nodded earnestly. Yao sighed. "It felt like you thought that I would actually just _let_ him do that. I would have taken care of it myself."

Ivan nodded. He really wanted Yao to know that he understood.

"Since we're talking about this, is there anything you wanted me to do more? Any concerns or comments?" Yao smiled.

Ivan wanted to point out that his tendency to never be quite forward or open with information. Ivan avoided thinking about how Yao knew that Lars had _cancer_ , and didn't even tell him. Ivan really wanted to point that out- but he didn't want Yao upset, so he smiled and shook his head no.

"Not off the top of y head, no." Ivan grabbed Yao's hand across the table. "I didn't know Lars had..."

"Cancer?" Yao's smile faltered. "He's an idiot. I don't think anyone really knew, aside from me."

Ivan stroked his thumb across Yao's. Yao looked like he wanted to change the subject. Ivan didn't know how to.

"I've been having trouble sleeping. You'll come sleep with me, right?"

"I—I, um," Ivan sputtered.

"God, Ivan, I didn't mean like _that_ , stop being such a middle schooler."

 


	49. Uncomfortably Stiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "/Lars has always been the trouble one, you know? If the school ever called, we knew who'd we'd have to go pick up. He's so different from Bella, even./"
> 
> Lovino made himself to smile. Lovino didn't like to smile over Lars.
> 
> "/I'm really glad Antonio found you. You know these last few years have been really tough on him. I don't know what he'd do without you./" She patted Lovino's hand. Lovino didn't know what to say for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay you gotta hold on for this one it's quite the roller coaster ride lmao.
> 
> in this chapter, the dialogue between the / / s is in Spanish. Just in case you needed to know. i mean i could google translate this but srsly who wants that im making it easy
> 
> anyway yeah thanks enjoy lol and don't forget to review!

Lovino rubbed his forehead angrily as he drove toward Tacoma. Antonio was spending the day with Lars and Bella, and Lovino knew they needed it, but it would be nice to have Antonio along.

Lovino was tasked with talking to Antonio's mother about Lars. Antonio's mother had helped raise he and Bella, and they all knew she needed to know (at least, Antonio and Bella knew they did. Lars said they shouldn't tell her. They ignored Lars).

Additionally, Lovino was wearing a nice red shirt and slacks. Casual dress clothes were a bit much for a visit like this, but he felt they were necessary. Feli had helped him pick the outfit a couple days ago, before Lovino even had an excuse to come talk to Mrs. Carriedo. Antonio, thankfully, hadn't questioned his wardrobe choice. He didn't want to be too suspicious.

Mrs. Carriedo answered the door with a cheery smile.

"Lovino? /How are you? Come inside. Are you here alone?/"

Lovino followed her inside. They sat at the kitchen table. "/Why isn't Antonio here with you?/" she asked vapidly.

"/He's with Bella and Lars, today/." Lovino's Spanish skills were shit, but she didn't speak English very well, so they'd have to do.

She smiled at the mention of her niece and nephew. "/I'm glad Lars has come back/." she said cheerily.

"/Antonio asked me to come here/." Lovino wouldn't be able to bring himself to tell her if he waited much longer. Antonio and Bella subscribed to the Lars fan club, sure, but he was fairly certain that if this fan club actually existed, Mrs. Carriedo would be the president of it.

"/Oh? Why is that?/"

"/Lars has cancer/." Lovino covered his mouth when he said it, watching her carefully and waiting for her response. She was so much like Antonio- the same face just transplanted onto an older woman. She was very still, and looked at Lovino with wide eyes.

She sighed and said, "/I thought there was something wrong/."

"What?"

"/Lars came to see me the other day. He was very subdued/."

Lovino ached a little to hear that. Mrs. Carriedo knew so much more about her family than Lovino did. She was a sympathetic, kindhearted woman and Lovino wished Antonio were here, too. If she started crying, there was no way Lovino wouldn't join her, and feel stupid over crying for Lars.

"/When did Antonio find out?/"

"/Yesterday/."

"/Send him up here sometime. I'm sure he's very upset. How's Bella?/" It was just like her to ask about the well being of the others.

"/Not very good. Antonio's better./" He didn't want to tell her that Antonio had cried for an hour before falling asleep last night. She probably already assumed so.

"/Lars has always been the trouble one, you know? If the school ever called, we knew who'd we'd have to go pick up. He's so different from Bella, even./"

Lovino made himself to smile. Lovino didn't like to smile over Lars.

"/I'm really glad Antonio found you. You know these last few years have been really tough on him. I don't know what he'd do without you./" She patted Lovino's hand. Lovino didn't know what to say for a moment.

"/Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that./"

"/Oh?/"

"/I want to ask if you- If I can have your permission to-" Lovino froze. He forgot the Spanish word for it. He'd have to work around that word, then. "If I can ask Antonio to be my husband?"

Mrs. Carriedo took a moment before a big, warm smile split her face, and she grabbed for Lovino's hands and stood, pulling him into a tight hug.

"/Yes, of course! My god, I have to call your grandpa! We'll plan everything. Oh, finally!/"

"/I haven't even asked yet! Don't talk to my grandpa yet! Antonio hasn't even said yes, yet./"

"/How could he say no? He loves you!/" She hugged him again, even tighter.

It took Lovino a moment to relax in the embrace and hug her back.

* * *

Berwald was tense after his day at work. He hoped Tino had made something to eat.

The apartment was surprisingly quiet when Berwald entered. Maybe Peter was watching TV in the bedroom.

"Tino?"

"In here." The living room. Tino sat in an armchair with a glass of wine. "Peter's spending the night at Kyle's."

"Oh."

"I was thinking that we could get dinner somewhere. Then we could come back and watch a movie," Tino smiled, "or something."

Berwald was bone tired, but he couldn't possibly pass up the implications of that. It had been so long since they'd had alone time.

"Where ya thinkin'?"

Tino stood, pulling Berwald close and wrapping his arms around his hips.

"I don't know, somewhere close by. Don't' want to be gone too long," Tino brushed his hands over Berwald's hips and lower back.

Berwald said, "I'm driving."

They went to a little Greek restaurant nearby. Tino chatted along as they ate.

"You will not believe what happened today. Lars has cancer- which _I_ already knew- and Antonio found out for the first time. And Yao showed up, too, and..."

Berwald paid attention vaguely. He always did like listening to Tino go on about his day, but currently, he was a little distracted with the socked foot rubbing up his ankle. Tino had an amazing poker face.

They went back to the apartment and Tino chose a movie. Berwald knew he shouldn't have let Tino choose, but he didn't say anything when it was a gory foreign thriller.

Tino leaned onto Berwald, and when the particularly gory part came, Berwald ducked his head into Tino's hair. Tino giggled at his squeamishness and pecked him on the cheek.

Tino honestly didn't care about the movie. He liked when Berwald clung to him like to- that was his favorite part of the horror genre. He turned his face into Berwald's neck.

"I can't wait any longer," he said against Berwald's warm skin.

Berwald, caught off guard, halted and bit his lip awkwardly. Honestly, he was surprised Tino lasted this long.

Berwald was pushed down onto the couch. Tino slid his lips down Berwald's throat as he worked on the jean buttons. His pants were quickly shucked down and Tino spread his legs to kneel between them. Berwald started to grab his glasses to put them on the side table, but Tino grabbed his hand to stop him.

"No, leave them on."

Berwald swallowed and nodded. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Lukas carried a bowl of soup carefully up the old stairs of his house. His mother was lying in bed in the dark northern bedroom.

She sat up slowly, and leaned against the bed post as Lukas sat beside her. He set the tray astride her lap and allowed her to kiss his cheek as he set down the bowl.

"Yesterday, Emil helped me down stairs so I could read in my chair."

Lukas nodded. Emil had asked him if it was okay to do so before he actually did it. She didn't like to read in bed.

"the place could use some fixing up, it seems."

Lukas nodded again. "I'm sorry, I've just been too busy to upkeep much of it."

The left side of her mouth frowned. She didn't slur as much as she used to thanks to therapy, but the right side of her face still seemed to droop. "You work too much. You should invited Matthias over to help. He'd love to help you, I know. I'd like to see him, anyway."

Lukas frowned, but nodded. She would get her way.

Lukas texted Matthias later.

_My mom wants you to come over and do some house work for her._

* * *

Yao and Ivan spent the night in Yao's bedroom. It was five AM when they got there. Yao didn't have pajama pants to offer Ivan, so he slept in boxers. It was a little difficult for Ivan to fall asleep with all the pandas and other stuffed animals around him, staring at him, but he managed.

Now, waking up, Ivan blanched a little at his mouth full of hair. His head was pillowed on Yao's chest, his arm thrown over Yao's stomach. One of his legs was hooked over Yao's hip.

He turned red. Yao's hand was lightly resting on that knee. Yao's other arm was wrapped around Ivan's shoulder. This was intimate.

Ivan tensed and tried to move that knee down before Yao woke, to save some of his dignity. Yao's hand, even in his sleep, instinctively grabbed the crook of his knee, effectively holding Ivan in place. Damn you, sleeping Yao.

They were uncomfortably affectionately close. Yao took deep, even breaths, and his chest was so smooth against Ivan's cheek. He smelled nice. Slowly, Ivan relaxed back into the embrace.

He was almost asleep again when he felt Yao's hand flex on his shoulder. He was waking up.

Absently, Yao ran his hands over Ivan's thigh, up and down lovingly.

"Mmm, Ivan?" he croaked.

"Good morning." Ivan's voice was small from sleep. His throat was scratchy.

Yao pinched Ivan's thigh. "I have work. What time is it?"

"The clock says eleven thirty."

"Hm."

Ivan started to stretch, trying to casually pull away from the close hold, but Yao pulled him closer, instead. He put his arm up around Ivan's neck, scooting down and adjusting so that he was face to face with Ivan. The back of Ivan's head was cradled in the crook of Yao's elbow. All Ivan could do was put a hand on Yao's chest.

Yao kept his hand on Ivan's thigh and kissed him. "You got real comfortable last night, didn't you? You must have missed me." Yao smiled cheekily.

Ivan scoffed and tried once again to pull away. Yao held him fast. Quickly, as if on a random whim, Yao rolled onto his knees, kneeling between Ivan's legs, still holding the other intimately close. He kissed Ivan's neck, nestling his nose against Ivan's ear. He all but forgot about the scars scattered here; they were commonplace to him, now.

"I missed you, too," he said into the shell of his ear. Ivan bit his lip. He felt too large and awkward and clumsy to be held like this. In his mind, this was wrong- he should be holding _Yao_ , not the other way around. His heart, which was pounding rather happily, didn't get the message. He thought it was strange that he was so comfortable with this.

"I need to start getting ready for work. I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?" Yao winked and Ivan's stomach threw itself off a cliff.

"R-really?" He had to be joking.

"Sure, darling." Yao pulled himself off Ivan, letting go of his holds. "Only if you want to."

Yao stood, offering a hand to Ivan.

"I, uh, guess I'd like that. Yeah."

"I'll go get a towel for you."

And that is how Ivan ended up naked in the shower with Yao. He had no idea what to expect- would it just be a normal shower? Would they do _other things_? What if they did, and Ivan slipped? It was daunting to think of.

Ivan fretted silently over all of this as he stepped into the shower, which Yao already had heated. It was a standing shower- not a two-in-one bath tub shower- so they stood rather close.

Ivan had to repress a smile when he found that the water only hit as high as his chest, whereas it was pouring down over Yao's hair at the same time.

"Bend down and get your hair wet." Ivan complied, and Yao ran his hands through his hair, getting it thoroughly wet. Yao took a dollop of shampoo and rubbed it through Ivan's hair.

Ivan's heart was racing. They were so close and the soft rub of Yao's fingertips on his scalp was mesmerizing. He close his eyes and leaned into Yao's touch.

"You can wash it out yourself."

Yao's hair was down and slicking itself to his neck and shoulders. Ivan focused on this as he rinsed his hair under the shower head. He wondered how soft Yao's hair would be when it was all wet.

Yao poured a handful of shampoo into his hand and lathered it into his own hair.

Yao quickly rinsed his shampoo out. "You don't use conditioner, do you?" Ivan shook his head.

Yao nodded and applied conditioner to himself. He grabbed the body wash and lathered it between his hands before turning to Ivan. He smiled coyly and put his hands on Ivan's chest, starting to rub the wash over his skin.

"It's okay if I touch you?"

Yao's hands were warm on his wet skin. "Yes, I _suppose_ it's okay," Ivan said, sarcastically reluctant. They both knew he was the _opposite_ of reluctant. Yao laughed.

He pushed Ivan back against the shower wall, and lathered it down Ivan's chest, down his sides, over his naval.

This was not supposed to be so hot, Ivan was sure of it. Yao kissed his shoulder.

His hands wandered down his thighs and around his hips.

"Turn around," he spoke softly, nibbling fleetingly on Ivan's shoulder.

Ivan turned and Yao immediately massaged over Ivan's shoulders, kissing a few knobs of his spine. Ivan's face was pressed effectively against the wall, and Yao couldn't see when he bit his lip, even if he heard the whine. Ivan was really enjoying this.

Yao's hands worked lower, and Ivan's face felt warm when Yao bent down behind him, feeling up his butt and kissing his lower back. Ivan dug his nails into his palms and mewled.

Yao stifled a laugh and kissed one cheek of Ivan's ass to see what he would do: he tensed and made an indignant little groaning sound, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

Yao stood again and put his hand on Ivan's hip, pulling it back against his own. Ivan yelped just a little when he felt Yao pressed against his thigh.

Yao slid his hand over Ivan's hip and followed the crook of his thigh suggestively.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

Ivan nodded frantically, "Yes."

Yao complied immediately. Ivan bit his lip hard, but nothing he could do would really cover his insistent groans. He wanted to rub his hips against the wall, wanted to move, but Yao kept his hips in place. Yao's chest was pressed to his mid-back and he bit Ivan's shoulder blade. Ivan whined and arched his back, pressing against Yao's hips.

Yao moved the hand from his hip and wound it into his hair. Ivan leaned into it, closing his eyes, practically purring.

"You make the cutest sounds, darling," Yao murmured, satisfied and smug. Ivan leaned his head against the wall and listened to himself breath. He felt really close.

Yao pulled his hair abruptly, and Ivan gasped. His mouth fell open and he groaned, and it was all over. He could just hear himself trying to catch his breath over the buzz of orgasm.

His knees wobbled as Yao continued to grind against his thigh for another moment before he finished, too. He wrapped his arms tightly around Ivan's waist, leaning on him so Ivan was once again crushed against the wall. He didn't mind much.

* * *

Matthias came over on Friday, about one in the afternoon. He worked through the list of fix-ups Lukas' mother wanted relatively quickly, just as Lukas knew he would.

He gave Matthias lunch, and looked about the house for something else to give Matthias to do. It was much too early for him to leave (very, very secretly, Lukas knew this was because Lukas didn't get to see him often, and wanted to extend it as long as possible. He also enjoyed having him do as he said, for once).

"The door to the living room is squeaky." Matthias went and looked at it. He hammered a couple things and swung the door open and closed, demonstrating the lack of squeakiness now.

"Easy. What's next?"

Emil got home at five PM (what took him so long? School got out three and a half hours ago) and flung himself onto a chair in the living room. He opened a history text book and read it with a bored expression, without giving any explanation for his tardiness, or batting an eye at Matthias being there.

"Emil, weren't you saying how there was something wrong with your bedroom window? You should go look at that, Matthias."

Matthias nodded, and headed up the stairs. Lukas sat on the arm of the chair Emil was sitting in.

"Where were you?"

Emil shrugged.

Lukas gave Emil a hard look, but his brother didn't look up at him, and it didn't have its full effect. "Well, can you think of anything that we need Matthias to do for us while he's here? He's been working the past couple hours."

Emil shrugged again. "If you're looking for excuses for him to stay, why don't you stop beating around the bush?"

"What does that mean?"  
"You know what it means." Emil gave him a meaningful look, and then returned to his book. Matthias came back down at that moment, digging obliviously through the tool bag he'd brought with him.

Lukas glared at Emil, who smiled to himself, knowing without seeing the expression on his brother's face.

Matthias stayed for dinner. Lukas set the table as Emil went upstairs to help their mother come down. She wanted to come greet Matthias and have dinner with them. She usually didn't muster the energy to come all the way downstairs, especially not in the afternoon.

As Lukas leaned over a chair to put the food on the table, Matthias pressed against his side. "The food smells amazing," he commented, his mouth very close to Lukas' cheek. This was how they interacted, Lukas told himself. This was how Matthias talked with friends.

"Thank you," he said, and turned away to grab utensils. Matthias followed.

"You're welcome," and he kissed his cheek with a huge, childish grin.

Dinner was nice. Mrs. Bondevik asked Matthias how he was doing- was he still working at the club? How was his DJ career coming? Good? That's good. Do you still collect stamps? I've got a couple for you, if you want.

Mrs. Bondevik adored Matthias, and it made Emil sick. He glared at his food, and ate small bites. He glanced up at his brother. He was watching Matthias closely, just as always.

"Well, it is getting dark outside. Matthias, if you want, you cane stay in the spare bedroom."

"No, he can drive home. He doesn't live that far from here, Mom. It won't be necessary," Lukas interjected.

"Really, it's not big deal Mrs. B. Thank you for the offer, though," Matthias grinned.

"Oh, well, I guess if you insist on going home, I won't keep you. Emil, will you help me back upstairs?" Emil nodded obediently.

Matthias helped Lukas wash up and put leftovers away. When they went to the front door to say goodbye, Emil was back on his perch in the armchair, flipping through the textbook again.

"I'll see you soon," Matthias said, pulling Lukas in for an uncomfortably stiff hug. He kissed Lukas' hair as he let go. Emil made a vomiting sound.

Matthias smiled and kissed Lukas on the lips, really quick and chastely and friendly.

"Get a room!" Emil called. Lukas glared at him.

"Well, see ya," Matthias went out the door. Lukas closed it behind him and locked it. He shot another threatening glare at Emil.

Matthias jingled the keys in his pocket and whistled a bit. He was happy. He'd spent the whole afternoon with Lukas, and he'd gotten a nice friendly kiss on the lips from Lukas, and didn't even get hit for it.

He was parked in front of the Bondevik house, just outside of the light pool of a nearby lamp post.

He heard rustling behind him as he picked out his car key. He turned to look just as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder forcibly. Someone took hold of his hair and slammed his face against the side of his car. His vision blurred white and black and he was on the ground, groaning and clutching at his shoulder.

It happened so swiftly, he didn't even know what had happened. His forehead was hot, and his hair stuck to it. How long was he there? The stars were so bright tonight.

He couldn't make out who was standing over him. A man in a black hood? Was he emptying the contents of his pockets? Or was it Lukas, cradling his head and not letting him fall asleep?

His vision went black.

A few moments after Matthias had left, Lukas had sat down on the couch across from Emil. He was going to tell Emil to knock off his jokes about Matthias and him, but he was patiently waiting for his brother's attention first.

The living room window faced out toward the garden and the street. That's why he could hear the commotion so clearly.

"What's that ruckus?" Emil asked, looking up suddenly. Lukas had ignored it in favor of staring down his brother. He guessed it was some street riff. Come to think of it, though, their street was usually very quiet. Lukas stood and pulled the curtain back to peer out at the street, squinting at the light from the street lamp. Something wasn't right. Where was Matthias?

"Oh, hell," Lukas muttered loudly.

"What's wrong?" Emil asked. He stood beside Lukas.

"I don't know, come with me. Let's go see."

Lukas had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hurried to the door and ran through the garden path to the street. He heard Emil's foot steps behind him, but when he rounded the hedge and found Matthias, lying on the ground, they sounded much more distant. Matthias' face was dripping in blood, and there was a stain spreading on his shirt. His eyes were instantly purpled with bruising.

"Oh my god, Matthias. Oh my god," Lukas rushed to his side, frantically grabbing his shoulders and trying to shake him awake, which unknowingly caused violent shots of pain to shoot through Matthias' body. He groaned weakly. "Oh my god, Emil! Call 911! Oh my god," Lukas was hysterical.

Emil was frozen in shock, his mouth open. He couldn't feel it as he reached into his pocket for his phone.

"Hello, what is your emergency?"

"My- my friend was just attacked."

"Where are you? I need you to remain calm."

Lukas was ripping off his own sweatshirt, having found the source of all the blood dripping onto the ground around Matthias. He wrapped it tightly around Matthias' shoulder, thankful for the CPR class he'd taken. He laid Matthias' head in his lap, with one hand applying heavy pressure to the wound, the other hand gingerly pushing his hair off his face, to keep it from being covered in blood. He was pale, and cold, and uncomfortably stiff.

"Matthias, I swear to god if you die on me I will never forgive you." Lukas' voice broke somewhere in the sentence and disappeared completely into a wrecked sob. "You idiot. Fuck." Lukas continued his expletives as he applied pressure to the wound. How could this much blood already be on his hands, and it just kept coming? Lukas couldn't see, couldn't think through his tears. "You can't die."

 


	50. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, shh. It's okay." Tino let Lukas put his face into Tino's neck. Tino would never tell anyone about this. Lukas worked very carefully to hide any vulnerabilities. Tino ran his hand over Lukas' hair soothingly. Tino heard nothing but labored breathing, and he could feel Lukas' warm wet tears though his thin button down shirt.

Kiku realized that there were problems with their relationship immediately on their first date.

They sat around one round table, and Kiku felt awkward, sitting directly across from Sadiq. Sadiq was watching him carefully.

Kiku knew that Sadiq would act like this for at least a bit. Sadiq was already very protective over Herakles, and Kiku had been surprised when Herakles called him to tell him that Sadiq was willing to try this out.

Herakles had talked to their friend Gupta before he had proposed these relationship parameters. Thank god Sadiq already thought Kiku was 'cute'. That's what Gupta had said Sadiq had admitted.

"So, Kiku, tell me about your job," Herakles sounded tired and pained asking, but Kiku saw that he was just trying to start a conversation. Kiku was already friends with both of them individually, but together it was different to find a topic of conversation.

"Software design. Right now I work for Microsoft, but a colleague and I are considering switching elsewhere."

Herakles nodded absently. 'That's interesting." He was lying through his teeth and they all knew it. Herakles was not interested in business or jobs or adult responsibilities period.

Dinner was awkward with these two.

Going to the park afterward, Kiku watched as Sadiq tried to grab Herakles' hand. Herakles dodged the attempt, casually swinging his arm out of the way. Kiku smiled at Sadiq's pout.

Kiku knew what Herakles was thinking. .He was trying to get Sadiq to get closer to Kiku. Kiku hoped he didn't try to hold his hand next. Kiku didn't like that kind of public affection.

"We should go home," Herakles finally said. Kiku was grateful. This date was dragging on.

"Okay. I'll see you again soon. This was nice."

"Kiku, I meant you'd come with."

Kiku paused. "Oh."

* * *

Emil and Lukas rode in the ambulance to the hospital. Emil was still shocked. Lukas sat with his head down, and only from Emil's angle could he see his wide, watery eyes.

The paramedics were working nimbly over Matthias, and Emil looked between Luke and the part of Matt he could see with wide eyes. His throat was tight- he'd never felt so helpless. He'd never seen his brother like this. What would happen if Matthias died?

Emil looked back at Matt. There was blood caking on his face. Emil felt sick.

* * *

Ivan was working with Sadiq that night. Sadiq was in a good mood.

It was an unremarkable night.

Early on, it already looked to be a quiet night. That was good, for Ivan.

Tino was chatting with some patron, who was probably drop, and Angelique was on the DJ podium. After the drama the other night, it seemed to calm down considerably. No one was talking about it. Lars hadn't been in since.

Antonio was with friends, though Francis looked more concerned with some guy making eyes on the dance floor than his two friends beside him.

Antonio's phone buzzed. He checked the caller ID.

"Berwald?"

Ivan watched as Antonio listened to the person on the other side of the phone. He nodded, glancing toward the bar. He hung up the phone.

Ivan, curious, watched as Antonio went to the bar and whispered something in Tino's ear. Tino, initially smiling, gave him a shocked look.

Something was wrong. Antonio called Lovino over to the bar as Tino rushed to grab his jacket. Ivan glanced over to Sadiq. He had noticed something was up as well.

Tino waved Antonio and rushed out to the back room. Antonio whispered to Lovino. Lovino frowned deeply and went behind the bar counter to cover for Tino.

Arthur, evidently called in by Antonio, arrived shortly after. He looked harried and upset by being called in. Honestly, Lovino probably made a friendlier bartender tonight than Arthur.

* * *

Herakles and Kiku had sort of been in a more than friendly relationship for a few months- a cautious, tenuous one, however, because they were uncomfortable with Sadiq not knowing. Herakles argued, however, that since they only did it when he and Sadiq were in an 'off' period.

This secret relationship was how Herakles and Kiku kissed and pet so familiarly. Sadiq had no idea how this worked. He stood to the side, not knowing where to look as Herakles grinned lazily and pecked Kiku repeatedly on the cheek.

"I'm tired."

That actually meant he wanted to cuddle. Sadiq knew that hint. .Suspiciously, Kiku knew the hint, too.

Herakles smiled slowly and took Kiku's hand. He grabbed Sadiq's on the way, and led both of them to the bed.

Sadiq was uncomfortable as Kiku and Herakles settled together. It wasn't that he didn't like that Kiku was there- he was just unsure of the boundaries between him and Kiku. As he'd said before, he would love to kiss and hold Kiku, just, was that allowed?

Kiku and Herakles curled around each other easily, and Sadiq was suspicious of them again.

"Come on, Sadiq, don't be an idiot."

Herakles had Kiku tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around each other.

Sadiq took a deep breath. He did this all for Herakles to be happy, he reminded himself. He spooned behind him and kept his hand pointedly on Herakles' hip, even though it would be more comfortable for him to put his hand on Kiku.

Herakles huffed, took his hand, and positioned it on Kiku's back.

* * *

Berwald had been called by Emil as soon as they arrived at the hospital. Lukas had not been allowed to follow where they took Matthias, so he paced back and forth around the waiting room. Emil took it upon himself to call anyone who should know.

Berwald was at the top of list. Berwald would bring Tino, and Tino might be able to calm his brother down.

He called Matthias' family- his brother and his uncle, even though they lived half way across the country. They wouldn't be able to visit, but it was still important for them to know.

After he called everyone important, he told Lukas he was going to go outside to get some fresh air. It had barely sunk in what had happened, even an hour later. He sat on the bench outside and stared at his feet. It smelled like cigarette smoke. A lot of people waiting in the ER must smoke.

Lukas was freaking out. Emil had never, ever seen him lose his composure like this. Not even when their mother had a stroke, or anything else that happened in consequence.

Emil's hands were shaking. He couldn't let Lukas see how upset he was. For once, he had to be the support for his older brother.

He took his phone out for one last call.

"Leon?"

"Emil? Is something wrong?"

Leon's voice was concerned and it made Emil want to be vulnerable. Hearing that worried tone in his voice made Emil want to break down and cry. He did.

* * *

Tino and Berwald, the latter with his arms full of a sleeping Peter, showed up a half hour later. They had to bring Peter because there was no one else to watch him.

Tino sat beside Lukas. Lukas had settled in a seat and was staring at his feet, his hands clasped in front of him. Berwald, who was not as close to Lukas as Tino was, sat a few seat away, across from Emil.

Emil had explained everything to Leon, and cried until he couldn't anymore, and wished he could just go and hide in Leon's bed. He closed his eyes and imagined how warm and soft Leon's blanket would be.

Emil had been at Leon's earlier that afternoon, had gone home with him from school. He'd laid on his bed beside Leon. Leon had wrapped his arms around Emil's waist and pressed kisses all over his face as Emil tried to read their Shakespeare assignment aloud. Emil's heart ached to go back to earlier this afternoon.

It was late. It was already about midnight when Tino and Berwald had come.

Tino sat beside Lukas, coming in close and whispering comforting words to him.

"Stop it, Tino. It's my fault that he-" Lukas' voice broke. Emil winced.

"Hey, don't say that." Tino rubbed a hand up Lukas' arm soothingly. "Come here." Tino put an arm around Lukas' shoulder. Lukas stiffly leaned toward him.

Berwald was concerned, and glanced at Lukas occasionally, but he was more concerned with the sleeping toddler in his lap.

Eventually, he said, "I think P'ter needs ta go home."

Tino glanced over at them. Peter was nestled into Berwald's neck, arms wrapped around him.

Tino nodded. "Lukas, do you want Berwald to take Emil home, too?"

Emil looked up room his phone when he heard his name. He was texting Leon.

Lukas nodded. "Thank you."

Berwald stood and Emil followed him out to his car.

Emil almost nodded off on the way home. He kept texting Leon, and told him when he got home.

_Are you going to be okay?_

Emil didn't respond to that one. He got ready for bed and laid under his blankets.

He stared at the ceiling for an hour before he realized for sure that he was too upset to sleep. He couldn't get the image of Lukas, in the ambulance and crying, out of his head. He couldn't forget how limply Matthias was lying on the ground.

_I can't sleep_.

He figured Leon was sleeping. Emil curled up on his side and tried in vain to fall asleep.

* * *

When Emil left, Lukas relaxed some. Tino rubbed his back.

"Emil shouldn't have seen this."

"Seen what?"

"Matthias. He shouldn't have seen Matthias. Tino, I thought he was going to die in my arms."

"You're in shock."

"Look at my hands. Do you see this? My hands are _stained_ with Matt's _blood_." Lukas put his hand over his eyes. "Tino, when I saw him there..."

"Stop that. He's going to be okay."

"If I had let him spend the night, he wouldn't have-" Tino cringed as Lukas' voice broke again, his face contorting with misery.

"Hey, shh. It's okay." Tino let Lukas put his face into Tino's neck. Tino would never tell anyone about this. Lukas worked very carefully to hide any vulnerabilities. Tino ran his hand over Lukas' hair soothingly. Tino heard nothing but labored breathing, and he could feel Lukas' warm wet tears though his thin button down shirt.

Tino continued to coo comfortingly and shush Lukas, even after he regained control of his breathing. Tino expected Lukas to pull away immediately, but he rested his head on Tino's shoulder as he tried to wipe away his tears.

"Tino?" he asked with a small voice.

"Yeah?"

"Let's say," he paused, suddenly taking a deep, ragged breath. "Let's say I tell Matt that I-" another painful sounding breath, "That I love him," he couldn't go any further yet, and another bout of crying overcame him. Tino felt so badly for him.

"You love him?" Tino asked tenderly. He had known there were definite feelings, but _love_...

Lukas, still trying to even his breathing and angrily wiping at his tears, nodded. He was still hiding his face in Tino's neck, and Tino was thankful for it. If Tino saw Lukas in this state, there was no way he wouldn't cry along with him.

"How could I not? I've loved him for _years_."

Tino frowned and rubbed his back in circular motions. 'Why haven't you told him before?"

Lukas didn't answer immediately. He covered his mouth with a bit of his shirt and tried to regulate his breathing. He wiped his eyes and sat back, away from Tino.

"What if he doesn't love me back?"

Tino frowned. To him, it was obvious that Matthias was wrapped around Lukas' finger, but it maybe hard to see that from Lukas' perspective.

"Hon, he wouldn't-"

"Alright, let's say we dated, then," Lukas cut him off. "What if we argue? What if we broke up?" Lukas looked at the red tinge of his hands. "What if we broke up and weren't friends anymore?" Lukas' lip trembled and he glared at the wall. "I don't want to take that risk."

Tino frowned, but sympathized with him. He still didn't think that was a good enough reason not to.

* * *

At about two in the morning, a rock collided with the window in Emil's room. Emil started out of the semi-conscious state he was in and sat up to look at his window. Another rock hit a moment later.

"What the hell?"Emil stood and went to peer outside.

Leon was standing in the middle of his backyard, holding rocks. Emil slid the frame open.

"What are you doing here?" Emil asked, trying to sound irritated.

"Let me in."

Emil smiled to himself as he ran downstairs to open the door.

"Are you supposed to be here?"

Leon shook his head and took Emil's hand and kissed him on the cheek.

He continued to kiss Emil's face- his cheek, chin, eyes, forehead, temples- as Emil led him upstairs.

Leon had a bag with him, in which he had pajamas and some Chinese candies that he knew Emil loved. He changed and they laid on the bed together.

"What are you planning to do, now that you're here?"

"I am here to kiss you as many times as you need until you fall asleep."

"And what if I don't need kisses to fall asleep?" Emil asked with a sly smile.

"Then I'm here for what you do need."

Emil smiled at the sweet sentiment.

"I just want you to hold me."

Leon nodded and pulled Emil close by the waist. "I can do that."

* * *

Emil felt better with Leon there. He held Leon's hand and Leon breathed on his neck, something that Emil had never known was so soothing. He fell in and out of consciousness the whole night, which wasn't a peaceful sleep but it was better than what he'd had before.

Emil waited to hear his brother come home, though. When he would wake up, he'd check the time and listen for if Lukas was pacing around his room. He knew Lukas would be pacing if he was home because there was no way he was going to sleep.

It was nearing five AM before he heard anything. The door was unlocked and carefully, quietly opened. Lukas knew Emil was listening for him.

"Leon? Leon wake up. My brother's home."

"Mmm?" Leon nuzzled into Emil's shoulder.

"He's probably going to check on me."

"Mmm."

"He can't see you here, idiot."

"Oh. Shit."

"Pull blankets over yourself."

Trying to stay quiet, Emil quickly pulled the all-but abandoned quilt over top both of them. Leon pressed close again his back. Emil tried to relax himself and make it look like he was sleeping again.

A few minutes later, and Emil heard his door quietly creak open. He kept his face relaxed, his breathing even. He could feel Leon's shallow breaths against his back, and it tickled strangely.

He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Lukas was in the doorway, watching him sleep. It was creepy, but Lukas did this a lot whenever he had trouble sleeping, or was thinking too seriously about something. He never said anything, never came into Emil's room. Just stood there, watching him sleep.

He stood there for five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes. There was a loud intake of breath- unusual- and he heard him mutter something like 'Oh, _god_ ,' before the door was closed and Leon could breath easy.

Leon slid his hands back around Emil's waist and put his forehead against his shoulder, and fell asleep again. Emil didn't have such an easy time, however. Lukas was really suffering. Emil's chest ached.

 


	51. Dead (Expression)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look, Tino, Matthias is going to be fine. He's a tough guy. He's too stubborn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the rather unannounced hiatus, there were finals and graduation and camp and it sucked so yeah sorry lol um.   
> yeah i have no excuse please enjoy

No one wondered about why Tino had left until after the club was closed that night.

"Someone better have a good reason why I was called in in the middle of the bloody night," Arthur fumed as the others gathered around the bar.

"Tino had to leave for something, I thought, right Antonio? He didn't look right."

"What?" Arthur perked up at that, obviously thinking of Peter. "What?" he asked again when Antonio didn't respond immediately.

Sadiq glanced at Ivan and rolled his eyes. Arthur was acting strange lately, and apparently Sadiq wasn't very impressed by it (though, Ivan figured it had something to do with his relationship with Alfred, and if that was the case, Sadiq _really_ was in no place to be criticizing him).

All the attention turned to Antonio, since he was probably the only one who really knew anything. Antonio appeared solemn, and paused a while before answering their questioning expressions.

"Berwald called me and informed me that Matthias had been attacked earlier tonight. Matthias was in the emergency room when Berwald called, and I haven't heard anything since. I wasn't given details, either."

"Oh my god." A wave of concern went through them, and Arthur obviously looked regretful about being such a dick over being called in.

"What happened?" someone asked.

Antonio shrugged. "He didn't say." Lovino came and stood next to Antonio, looking rather concerned but still vaguely pissed off as usual. 0

"Well, that's all you're gonna get. Go home," he ordered. "We'll try to keep you all updated," he added, his tone a little nicer.

They shuffled through the backroom, grabbing personal items and getting ready to go home. Ivan was out into the alley quickly; ready to walk home and text Tino to find out if there were any new details. He wasn't particularly close to Matthias but he didn't feel right not looking into it. He was sure Tino was torn up over it.

"Hey, Ivan, let me give you a ride," someone called from the doorway just as Ivan was typing a message. He slid his phone closed and turned to find Sadiq pulling on a leather jacket. "It's not too far out of the way, come on."

"You don't have to," Ivan insisted, even as he started to follow Sadiq down the alley toward his car.

"Come on, I can't let you walk home. Besides, I know you're going to find out about Matt, and I want to hear too."

Ivan smiled a little, and shrugged. "Alright."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Sadiq started as soon as they got in their car. "It's going to be really bad news, if it's bad enough for _Berwald_ to go rushing to the hospital for _Matthias_."

Ivan shrugged. "Tino's really close to Matthias, though."

"That's true. Go ahead and text him, if that's what you were planning to do. I think I know how to get to your apartment."

Ivan nodded and took out his phone. _What's going on?_ It was nearly three thirty in the morning by then, and if they were still waiting in the hospital, Tino would probably respond immediately. That would also mean that they were _still waiting_. That would mean that it was very bad, whatever had happened. Ivan hoped he didn't get a response until morning.

 _We don't know yet_ , Tino responded.

Oh god.

_What happened?_

"What is he saying?" Sadiq asked, glancing over from the steering wheel at Ivan as he typed out his response.

"They don't know how Matthias is dong yet."

"Shit." Sadiq kept his eyes on the road now, but Ivan could hear his concern. For coming off as so rough, he really was a nice guy.

_Matthias was mugged. Lukas says he was stabbed or something. IDK, Lukas is hysterical._

"He was stabbed."

Sadiq huffed a quiet breath. "Fuck."

* * *

Emil crept down the stairs quietly that next morning, peering around, trying to discern if Lukas was home or not. Emil couldn't remember if he had work today or not. His schedule fluctuated a lot.

The kitchen was quiet, and there was a dirty coffee mug in the sink.

"Lukas?" Emil called to the living room. He couldn't smell the coffee anymore, so it was obviously old, but he wanted to make sure.

There was no response.

"Leon, you can come down," he called up the stairs, softer.

Leon tiptoed down and came into the kitchen. Emil was washing Lukas' mug in the sink, so Leon pulled out bowls for cereal.

"You know I'm going to need a ride home, right?"

Emil sighed. "I figured. Freeloader."

* * *

Yao was supposed to come over to Leon's house for breakfast tea. Leon's parents were often away on business, so Yao was tasked with checking in on him occasionally. He enjoyed his visits with his young cousin. Leon was possibly the sanest person left in their family.

Today, Yao came by at about eight in the morning and knocked on the door. Leon was usually up already, doing his morning ritual. Today, however, he did not answer the door as quickly as was usual. In fact, he didn't answer at all, even after Yao knocked again and again.

Yao thought this was strange, and sat on the porch chair, deciding to call Leon's cell phone. No response. This was definitely strange.

He'd have to wait for him, then. Maybe he went for a morning jog.

Yao didn't have to wait too long before a car pulled up on the sidewalk in front of the house and Leon climbed out of the passenger side. Because of the bushes in Leon's front yard, neither Leon nor the driver could see Yao where he sat, but Yao could see them.

Yao, intrigued, leaned back in his chair for a better view of the driver. It was a young white boy Yao didn't think he'd ever seen before, though he looked vaguely familiar.

Leon went around to the driver's side and leaned in through the rolled down window to give the driver a kiss, smiling smugly as he pulled away. Yao could see them banter for a moment, the driver visibly flustered by whatever Leon said.

Yao smiled; he hadn't known that Leon was seeing anyone.

The boy didn't start his car until Leon was on the porch. He pulled away, waving at Leon, who waved back. Only when he turned back to his door did Yao stand and Leon noticed him for the first time.

"Yao?" he stepped back in surprise. He glanced back toward the street guiltily. "You didn't…"

"See anything? Like how you kissed that boy? No, I didn't see anything."

Leon glared at Yao, but proceeded to unlock the door and let them both inside.

"So was that your boyfriend? I didn't know you were allowed to date."

Leon shot him another nasty look and sat out some tea cups and other ware, less gently than he usually did.

"You know who would be very interested in hearing about this? Your dad! Not only are you dating behind his back, but it's a white boy, too."

"Yeah? Maybe I could blame you. 'Dad, Cousin Yao is such a bad influence with his non-Asian Russian boyfriend. Maybe you should stop letting him come over because he's harassing me about dating someone'."

Yao laughed and rolled his eyes. "So, who is he? Did you spend the night with him? Do we need to have 'the talk'?"

"Oh my god, Yao, drink you tea. I don't' want to hear this."

"Leon, don't disrespect your elders."

"Then like, stop asking about my sex life!"

Yao just smiled into his cup. "You do need to tell me, though. Do you go to school with him?"

Leon sighed. "We've been dating since last spring. He's my age and we are in almost all the same classes. I spent Thanksgiving with his family. So did Ivan, actually, I think, but I never told you because it was awkward. We haven't had sex, and you can absolutely not tell any of our family about this or I will never ever talk to you ever again. Are you satisfied?"

"What a small world. What is his name, again? I might know him, if he knows Ivan."

"Emil. His brother is Lukas. I went to his house last night because he couldn't sleep, so don't get any weird ideas, okay?"

"That's not really helping your case, actually, saying that he couldn't sleep without you."

"Oh my god Yao shut _up_."

Yao grinned. "So, Lukas, I think I remember him from the party Ivan invited me to. Didn't he have a boyfriend, too? Matthias?"

Leon shrugged. "Not exactly, but I can't expect an old man like you to remember details. Matthias was actually why Emil couldn't sleep last night," he hesitated, "He was in the hospital last night."

"Oh, that does not sound good."

* * *

Ivan was awoken a little after eleven the next day to the sound of his phone buzzing off the hook.

He grabbed it and checked his messages. He had two from Tino. The first read, _Hey are you up yet?_ The second, _Can we meet for coffee?_

_Where?_

* * *

They met a half hour later, and Tino looked thoroughly disheveled.

"I didn't get to sleep until six," he grumbled, rubbing his face and taking a long drink from his large coffee. Ivan sat across from him. He had never seen such a dead expression on Tino's face. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was mussed and he wasn't smiling.

"Do you know Matthias' condition?"

Tino shrugged one shoulder. "They said he was stabilizing. Lukas was mostly asleep by the time the doctor came and filled us in. They said they had gotten the bleeding to stop from the stab wounds on his shoulder, but there was some head trauma and muscles were torn and it was going to be a nasty ordeal. He lost a shit ton of blood, too, and they don't know when he's going to wake up."

Ivan was silent a moment. Tino looked deeply concerned, as he should be. "I just don't get what kind of an idiot would attack someone as big as Matthias."

Tino smiled, just a little tiny smile, but it was enough that Ivan could see some tension drain from his shoulders.

"Look, Tino, Matthias is going to be fine. He's a tough guy. He's too stubborn."

Tino shook his head, his smile a tad bit stronger, and rested his chin on his palm. "I know." He shook his head again, moving his hand over his eyes. "As soon as he wakes up, everything will be fine. Until then, well, I don't know. He might actually die. It is a real possibility." Tino bit his lip. "I can't imagine what would happen. Oh my god, Ivan, you know? He's one of my best friends. Lukas is in love with him. Oh my god, Lukas; if Matthias dies, I don't think Lukas could handle it. Did you know Lukas has raised Emil by himself for the last four years? And taking care of his sick mother? Lukas has been on the brink of a breakdown forever, it feels like, and I don't know how he's going to survive this, just with Matthias in the hospital, let alone if he dies-." Tino choked.

"Lukas is lucky to have you, Tino, because you're going to pull him through, right?" Ivan said quietly. Tino peered at him through his fingers. "Let's go visit Matthias. We'll see how he's doing now. Do you want to walk there? It'll clear your mind."

Tino nodded.

They stood and walked silently to the hospital. It was luckily only a half mile away. Ivan was quiet the whole way there. Tino was too exhausted to speak.

Ivan wanted to assure him again that Matthias wasn't going to die, but Ivan couldn't honestly promise that. It was safer not to assure him of anything. Ivan was able to keep himself collected in the face of a loved one dying, now. It felt too surreal to believe anything. Death was something he was used to, death was natural to him. What was unnatural was seeing his friends deal with it; seeing friends who were unused to death dealing with it firsthand.

How horrible would it be to see Matthias die? Ivan wasn't sure. He was sure, however, that it would be much too horrible to bear, to see Tino see Matthias die. To see Tino distraught over Lukas. Matthias had to pull through, because Ivan was too selfish to see his friends hurt.


	52. I Can't

Antonio and Lovino lived in a rather nice condo in north Seattle.

Lovino had spent the day with his family, going out to lunch with his Grandpa and his brother after church service. Antonio, having nothing else to do and being a concerned employer, had visited Matthias in the hospital. Matthias had been bedded there for two days already and had yet to wake up.

Antonio didn't stick around the hospital long—Tino had come by with some of Matthias' other friends, and Antonio didn't want to intrude. He noted unconsciously that aside from these friends, he didn't see anyone visiting. There were flowers on the window sill, some cards. He refused to let himself think of how Lars was going to end up—that was not a train of thought he wanted—but it would likely resemble this hospital room very much.

Antonio arrived home long before Lovino. There wasn't much to watch on TV, and he wasn't hungry, so there really wasn't much for him to do.

His mother had dropped off some boxes of his old things from high school, so he figured he could go through some of those.

Antonio had moved out of his mother's house very late, even after Lars (who was two years younger than him) had already found his own place.

Going through these boxes, he could throw a lot of the contents away. He had old certificates for different clubs he'd been a part of and letters from colleges that he never went through. He threw all of these into the recycling can.

One box was full of his old dancing paraphernalia. There were trophies and some photos, programs for dance competitions from when he was fifteen.

Antonio had danced competitively since elementary school, and even entered professional competitions later on. Up until a couple years ago, Antonio had actually been making a name for himself in the professional dancing community.

He smiled, looking over some of the larger trophies that he had worked so hard to earn, and dug deeper through the box.

At the bottom, under all the other items, he was surprised to find a couple pairs of shirts and slacks that he had danced in. They were neatly folded and placed on the bottom. He went through a couple of them, feeling the smooth fabric. It really did bring back memories.

At the bottom of the pile, he was surprised to find a simple maroon button up shirt. This wasn't a ballroom dance uniform, but it was definitely his from quite a few years ago. It was a size or two smaller than Antonio probably wore anymore, and he definitely recognized it from somewhere.

Lovino sat through lunch with his family rather begrudgingly. He'd honestly rather be back home with Antonio doing anything but listen to his grandfather ramble on about something that only he and Feliciano cared about.

"Lovino, you're too quiet. Don't you have something to say?" Feli said with an encouraging grin.

Lovino shrugged.

Lovino was going to the galleria to pick up an engagement ring after lunch, and he really could care less about whatever the other two were talking about.

He got home two hours later.

"Lovino!" Antonio called from upstairs. Lovino grumbled under his breath, putting his bag down and climbing the stairs displeased. "I'm in here. Look at it, I found the shirt I was wearing when I met you! Remember?"

Antonio was checking himself out in the bedroom mirror.

Lovino froze. Antonio really was wearing that shirt, and it brought a flood of nostalgic memories back from that night. Lovino bit his lip.

Antonio, oblivious, continued. "I'm surprised how well it fits. I'm probably luck we met when I was in such good shape—you probably wouldn't have spared mea second glance otherwise!" Antonio joked, smoothing down the front of his shirt in the mirror. Lovino laughed halfheartedly.

"Do you think that dance studio is still open? It was down near Queen Anne, right?" Antonio continued. "Too bad I don't dance anymore."

"We should go dancing, actually. I can look that place up," Lovino didn't know where this spontaneity was coming from—he hated dancing, but he loved dancing with Antonio.

Antonio paused from his fussing in the mirror and looked at Lovino curiously. "What? No, I'm no good anymore. Besides, when would we possibly be able to go?"

"Why not tonight?" Lovino was stock still, shocked by his own words.

"Tonight?" Antonio asked incredulously. "Come on, Lovi, you know at least one of us has to be at the club, though…"

"Leave someone in charge. Call Bella or something .I want to go." Lovino had planned to propose after a romantic dinner, or on the beach, or something cliché and cute, but what could possibly be better than proposing in the place they met?

"I don't' know, Lovi…"

"I'm calling Bella right now to ask her. We're going tonight, and nothing you can say will change my mind." Lovino said with finality, adding, "Bastard," just to be safe.

* * *

_Do you want to have a late lunch with me?_

Ivan received this text at about one on Sunday.

_Of course. You pick where?_

_I'll send you an address_

Yao had an affinity for finding cozy little cafes in the area. This one was near China Town. Ivan didn't even get a chance to look at the menu, because Yao had already ordered for them both by the time Ivan got there.

"You'll like it, don't worry."

It was a kind of soup, and Ivan couldn't tell what the ingredients were, precisely, but it was good.

"It's Korean. They say Russian and Korean cuisines are very similar," Yao smiled broadly; he was proud to have correctly guessed what Ivan would like.

"So I heard that your friend Matthias was hospitalized the other night. That's really too bad. Arthur has been too busy lately to tell me what happened. Not that he would, given his chance. What was he in for?"

Ivan halted his eating and set his spoon down. "I'm sure Arthur is busy with Tino. Matthias was mugged." Yao frowned. "He's in really bad shape last time I checked. Stab wound, brain trauma, a lot of blood loss. The doctors keep saying he'll wake up soon."

"I'm sure he will," Yao said, his tone soft.

Ivan shrugged. "It's been two days, that's all I know."

Yao shrugged on shoulder in return, meaning that he was done with that line of thought. "Your sister's coming in two months, right? Are you excited?"

Ivan, somewhat thrown off by the sudden change in subject, picked up his spoon again. "Yeah. I think she'll like city life. She's more fit for it than I am."

"Well, with that in mind, what are you going to do when she brings an American boy to come meet you?" Yao asked with a cheeky smile.

Ivan was taken aback by the idea and looked at Yao with wide eyes—he hadn't even fathomed Natalya dating an American boy. "I- what? She wouldn't do that, I don't think."

"You don't think," Yao repeated teasingly.

Ivan huffed glaring at that mocking tone. "I wouldn't be able to do anything about it, honestly, because she would bring you up and I wouldn't be able to argue."

Yao chuckled, and moved on. "So I was thinking tonight would be nice to spend together, if that's not too forward."

Ivan smiled wryly at the attempted formality. "Why do you say that?"

"I supposed Kiku being out of town makes it a nice time. Well, okay, he _said_ he was 'out of town', but I bet he's just with Herakles and Sadiq."

"Both of them?"

Yao shrugged and put a hand up in a 'don't ask me' way.

"Well, alright."

* * *

Bella forced her way into Lars' morning, barging into his kitchen and making tea which Lars begrudgingly accepted. "What do you want, now/" he finally asked when they were seated at Lars' dining table.

"I have been doing my research and I think Swedish Hospital is supposed to have the best therapy for bedded patients."

"What are you talking about?" It was early and Lars didn't want to have the discussion that he thought Bella was trying to start.

"Your treatment, of course."

"I'm not going to be hospitalized, Manny," he said, standing from the table dismissively.

"Lars," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to his seat, "it's the only way to make sure you get the best care. If you get any worse, we'll have to—"

"It's too expensive, I don't care."

"Look, I talked to Mom and she said if we had to, that we could ask Father for help—"

There is absolutely _no way_ ," Lars interrupted again, pulling his hand away from her, "that I would _ever_ ask him for help!"

"Lars, please, it's for your own good."

Lars slammed his tea cup on the table and stood once again, looking down at Bella angrily," I would rather _die_ than ask _him_ for money," he said firmly, defiantly glaring down at her.

Bella recoiled from his loud display, glaring just as defiantly back at him.

"Well," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, an almost undetectable wobble barely present, "Maybe _I_ don't want you to die." Bella stood slowly and gathered her coat from the back of her chair. "By all means, though, if you want to throw away your whole damn life over your sense of pride, be my guest. I've never been able to stop you before." She slung on her jacket, harshly turning on her heel toward the door. "Silly me, thinking I could, this time."

* * *

As it turned out, that dance club that Antonio and Lovino met at was still open. They got Francis to supervise the club for them (though Lovino doubted he was really trustworthy enough), put on some nice clothes, and went.

It was dim and the Latin music thrummed nicely through the floors, through Lovino's bones, calming his nerves. He was really going to do it tonight.

Antonio, though equally as nervous as Lovino when they first arrived, visibly relaxed when they got to the dance floor.

Antonio was a much better dancer than Lovino, so he pulled Lovi close and led. He was much slower, his steps more cautious and carefully placed, than he had been that first night. He was grinning throughout, anyways, obviously enjoying himself.

Antonio grinned devilishly and spun Lovino without warning, earning him an annoyed huff. Antonio laughed.

"You're just as cute now as you were back then. Less flustered, though," and he pressed a kiss to Lovino's cheek.

Yeah, well, I hadn't even _wanted_ to dance with you, you know."

"Oh, I remember. Feliciano had come and cut in for a dance with me, and I said he was cute, and he said—what was it? 'If you think I'm cute, wait till you meet my brother. He wants to dance with you too', or something, and then he went and dragged you out to me against your will, and he was so absolutely right. You were so cute. You turned bright red when we started dancing, too." Antonio laughed fondly at the angry, embarrassed reaction this story got out of Lovino.

"Did Feli really say that? What an idiot!"

Antonio laughed harder. "You know, I never did thank Feli properly for that."

Lovino glared.

"How many years ago was that? It feels like forever."

"Eight."

Antonio raised his brows, smiling cheekily. "How do you remember that so readily, Lovi?"

Lovino's eyes widened—how incriminating!—before he scowled. "I was eighteen, because Feli dragged me out here to celebrate graduating from high school, and now I'm twenty six. It's just basic math, bastard."

Antonio chuckled and kissed his cheek again.

* * *

"Why haven't you visited Matthias yet?" Tino asked as he sat down at the diner table. Lukas had invited Tino to join Emil and him for dinner at the cheap little place in southern Ballard that Sunday afternoon, and Tino couldn't really say no.

"The visiting hours end the same time I get off work," Lukas answered briskly, not looking up from the menu he was surveying.

Emil was texting under the table.

"We both know you have weekends off from work, Lukas. That is the weakest excuse."

Lukas just shrugged.

The waitress came by before Tino could pursue it.

"French toast, please," Emil spouted without having to be prompted.

Lukas order the French dip and Tino, not having had the chance to look at the menu, ordered the special.

"Emil, I actually brought you both some licorice. Can you go get it from my car? It's in the glove box."

Emil nodded and took Tino's keys, leaving without a word.

"Lukas, what's really going on?"

Lukas gave him a deadpan stare. "What's the point of going if he's not even awake?"

Tino sighed, exasperated. "That's not the reason you haven't been visiting. Spill your guts, Lukas."

Lukas' frown deepened minutely, before he caved. He rubbed the palm of his hand over his eye. "I can't see him beat up like that."

Tino frowned sympathetically, but pressed on. "He's looking better. Worrying at home isn't going to make you feel better."

"Neither is going and watching him sleep, dunce," Lukas snapped.

"It might," Tino rebuked.

Lukas looked out the booths' window. "You know, whenever I have a crisis like this, I go to Matthias. When my Mom had her stroke, when my Dad left; heck, in Middle School when the girl I liked rejected me," Lukas laughed hollowly. "This time, I—I can't." His voice only broke for a moment before he glared darker and cleared his voice. "I have to take care of Emil, not worry over Matthias."

"Lukas, answer me honestly: have you been sleeping?"

Lukas paused. "No."

"Have you been drinking?"

He paused longer, still not looking at Tino. "Yes."

"Do you really think that's good for Emil? Is that really what you call taking care of him?"

Lukas scowled at the reflection in the window. "No."

Tino put a hand on Lukas' arm. "Come visit him with me tomorrow. The doctors say he should wake up by noon tomorrow."

"They've _been_ saying that."

"You've got to trust them."

* * *

Eventually, Antonio had to go sit down. Lovino told him he would go get drinks.

First, however, he went to the DJ booth and requested a slow song. There was a pile up of about five requests before his. Perfect.

He went and got some sweet drinks, and found Antonio sitting at a table. Apparently, he'd been recognized by some people from his old dancing scene.

"Lovino? Antonio, you actually managed to hold onto this one?" one of the women asked, amazed.

Antonio shrugged, smiling, and accepted the drink from Lovino. Lovino sat beside Antonio.

"You remember Clarice, right? And Maria? She was my partner for the samba. What about Morgan and Chase?"

"No," Lovino answered, truthful and blunt. The group of them laughed.

"Some people never change, huh?"

Lovino sat through their small talk for a couple minutes. Antonio had a lot of catching up to do, it seemed. Lovino hadn't realized how many people Antonio fell out of contact with when he left dancing behind.

He let it go on for a while, but before he knew it, his slow song was playing.

"Antonio, let's go back to the dance floor, I like this song."

"Oh, okay. I'll talk to all later. Hang around, okay?" They nodded and smiled amiably, and waved them off to the floor.

The slow song let Antonio hold Lovino closer, and Lovino gripped Antonio's bicep tightly when Antonio tilted his head down to lean his cheek against Lovino's cheekbone. Lovino closed his eyes and leant into it.

Antonio hummed along with the song, and Lovino couldn't help but smile and chuckle breathily.

The song was over too quickly; before Lovino felt ready, Antonio was already pulling away. He had to ask right now, before the next song.

"Antonio," he started, his voice small.

"Hm?"

"I have a question for you."

"Well, what is it?" Antonio was already scanning the bar area again for his friends.

"Look at me."

Antonio did, eyebrows raised in expectation. He looked really handsome, in his nice shirt, cheeks a little red from exertion. Lovino swallowed and fished the box out of his pocket. He maintained eye contact with Antonio, who was curiously trying to peak at what was in his hand. Lovino knelt on one knee.

"Antonio, will you marry me?"

The people around him were staring, and the music hadn't started playing yet. Lovino knew that he had a lot of eyes on him, and was starting to turn red.

"Did he just propose?" someone in the crowd asked someone else. "How cute!" "Well, say yes!"

Lovino glanced around at the dark faces around them, watching him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He glanced back up at Antonio.

He was staring down at Lovino with wide eyes, his hands clasped over his mouth. "Lovino…" His eyes were starting to water. He couldn't speak his answer, could only nod. Lovino stood, quickly wiping off his knees, and Antonio folded him into a big, tight hug. "Oh my god, Lovi, I love you," he kissed his cheek repeatedly. "I love you so, so, so much."

* * *

Emil knew that Tino sent him out on purpose. He got the licorice and sat outside of the diner, to give them time to talk. He popped open the bag of licorice and ate a few, too.

He had nothing better to do, so he called Leon.

" _Hello? What's up, Emil?"_

"Can you come over tonight?"

" _What? It's a school night."_

Emil sighed, looked around toward the door to see if anyone noticed he was taking too long.

"Lukas is probably going to go drinking again tonight, he wouldn't notice."

Leon paused for a long time. _"Do you think you could bring clothes and your backpack over here without him seeing?"_

Emil smiled to himself. "Thank you."

 


	53. The Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's that one horror that just came out," Herakles suggested.
> 
> "Oh," Sadiq hesitated, glancing over at Kiku. "I don't know if Kiku would like that."
> 
> "I love scary movies," Kiku assured him with a smile, popping a piece of squid into his mouth.

Kiku brought Herakles and Sadiq out for sushi. Sadiq seemed very weary of the raw fish, but Herakles enjoyed it very much.

"Do you two want to go to a movie after this?" Herakles asked, grabbing another plate off the conveyor belt.

"What's showing?" Sadiq asked.

Kiku was seated across from Herakles, Sadiq to his left. He listened as the other two discussed their options.

"There's that one horror that just came out," Herakles suggested.

"Oh," Sadiq hesitated, glancing over at Kiku. "I don't know if Kiku would like that."

"I love scary movies," Kiku assured him with a smile, popping a piece of squid into his mouth.

Herakles nodded smugly. Sadiq never, ever said so, but Herakles knew Sadiq got really jumpy in scary movies. And if Herakles used this knowledge to purposefully always suggest the scariest movie in theaters, it was Sadiq's own fault for never owning up to it. He always refused to admit he was scared.

"I'll look up the show times right now," Herakles offered, pulling out his phone.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the restroom," Kiku said, politely scooting his chair back.

Herakles nodded in acknowledgement. "The theater down the block from here has a showing at three thirty. We should go then."

Sadiq nodded. He didn't really want to go, but he could see the secret challenge in Herakles' eyes, and his pride would not let him back down now.

Herakles' phone vibrated on the table. He sighed, "Sorry," and picked it up.

He answered with Greek, so Sadiq couldn't understand a single word of it. He zoned out for the most part. Probably his Mom or something.

When Herakles hung up, he looked somewhat apologetic (as apologetic as he got when he spoke to Sadiq), "My Mom needs me. I'm going to have to ditch. Still go with him, though. Pay for my food. Bye," he said rapidly, standing up.

Sadiq didn't even manage an indignant response before Herakles put his jacket on and left.

Kiku came back momentarily and sat. "Where did Herakles go?"

Sadiq shrugged. "Family thing or whatever. Looks like it's just you and me for the movie, eh?"

Kiku frowned just a bit, but nodded. "We'll enjoy it even without him."

* * *

"Did you bring your homework?" Leon asked immediately when he opened the door.

"Homework? It's Sunday night, I already got it done," Emil answered haughtily. "I did bring my backpack for tomorrow morning, though." He swung his backpack off his shoulder and tossed it on the ground near the front door.

"Good. Do you want to change to pajamas now, then?"

Emil smiled and nodded.

Emil and Leon were never very intimate with each other, honestly—except that one time when Leon came over to 'help Emil with math' (seriously, that _was_ why Emil invited him over!) and they ended up making out, Leon on top of Emil, his shirt hitched up to his rib cage and Emil's legs around his hips. Of _course_ , that was when Lukas walked in on them, having never even known they were a thing, and, shocked and aghast, threw Leon out of the house. Lukas has been passive aggressively disapproving ever since then, reluctantly and sneeringly allowing them to continue meeting for study group.

Now, though, in an empty house, they had no qualm getting closer. They fell to bed, Leon grabbing Emil's hand and kissing the plain of his cheeks. He liked the shade of pink Emil's face became when he did that.

Emil sighed into the kiss once Leon finally kissed his lips. Leon curled a hand into Emil's hair, and Emil gripped his bicep. Emil was so thankful of that fact that Leon slept shirtless, because it meant that he could look at and touch his toned muscles all he wanted. Emil's flush crept down his neck. Simply feeling the flex of Leon's arm as he crushed their lips together made him feel too hot, made him want to feel more.

Emil wore a flannel shirt to bed every night, even when it was hot out and especially when he was spending the night with someone else. He had chubby, girly hips and he was very self-conscious.

Which was conflicting, when Leon slid a hand under his shirt, hand pressing into his hip.

Before Emil could complain, Leon pushed him back to lie flat, following his lips and moving to lay over him, one of his legs coming between Emil's thighs, which was necessary for balance due to their height difference. Leon braced his arms on either side of Emil's head, going back to kissing his neck, now licking and nipping as well. Emil ran his hands through Leon's silky black hair, one arm coming to rest of his shoulder. He bit his lip when he found how tense his shoulder muscles were. He sighed when Leon did something particularly clever against the juncture of his shoulder, and traced his fingertips along the contours of Leon's shoulder blade.

The leg that was not trapped beneath Leon bent, sliding against Leon's hip, and Emil wanted to wrap it around his waist, but that was very forward. He was too embarrassed. He wanted to touch Leon so much more. His body told him to take off his shirt—oh god, and feel Leon's chest pressed right up against his, he shuddered at the though—but his conscious told him not to. Leon didn't want to see how unattractive Emil was under his clothes.

Leon kissed lower on his neck, of his collar bones, his hand fiddling with the top button of Emil's shirt.

"Um, maybe not…" Emil said, grabbing that wandering hand.

"Oh," Leon pulled back. There was a flush to his cheeks, and his lips were red. "You're right, we should stop here," he said, nodding absently and pushing himself off Emil.

"We—we don't need to _stop_ ," Emil placated, feeling cold without Leon's warm body over him.

"No, no, I, like—I need to stop," Leon assured him distantly, licking his lips.

Emil was unsure of what that meant. He asked, tentatively, "Don't you want me?" Not that Emil wanted that right _now_ , but it did make him wonder.

Leon looked at him sharply, eyes wide, and nodded. "Like, of course I want you. The problem is more that I want you too much."

"Oh," Was all Emil could say. "But I'm fat," he debated.

"What?" Leon asked in returned, outraged. "You're not _fat_. You're a little chubby, sure, but so what? You're…" Leon faltered for lack of words. The word he'd wanted to use felt too committing and intimate. "You're like, perfect."

Emil was stunned for a moment, before he looked away, scoffing, "Whatever. You haven't seen me naked."

"Emil, you could be absolutely hideous and I would love you. We've been dating for like, a year; do you really think I care what you look liked?" He flopped onto his stomach and put an arm across Emil's chest. "Not that I think you're anything but beautiful."

Emil blushed and frowned trying to hide it. "You love me?"

Leon froze; he had not meant to let that slip. "Um, yeah. I do. I hadn't really meant to _say_ that."

"But it's true?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"People don't really say that unless they want to stay with them for a long time."

Leon knew that plaintive tone. Emil was testing Leon to see if he was being truthful. "I _do_ want to be with you for a long time. I can imagine graduating from school and living near you when we go to college and getting married after that and adopting kids, if you want, and buying a house in the suburbs."

Emil was taken aback. "You're just saying that."

"We'll buy a house in the middle of a bunch of roundabouts so most of our relatives will get confused and lost and rarely visit."

"Oh my god that's brilliant." Emil grinned and kissed Leon's cheek.

* * *

The movie was absolutely terrifying. Sadiq squinted at the screen, making a pained expression, and glanced at Kiku out of the corner of his eye. Kiku was fucking _grinning,_ what a _sicko_.

Sadiq jumped at the sound of blood spatter, his attention brought back to the movie. The scene was morbidly gory and gut-wrenching, and Sadiq feared he would have to throw up—and that would be disastrously embarrassing.

There was a jump scare that succeeded in making Sadiq jumped really badly, and Kiku glanced at him curiously. Poor Sadiq looked pale and tense. Kiku smiled gently and slid his hand into Sadiq's hand that was gripping the armrest between them.

Sadiq peered down at the hand in his, and squeezed it tightly. He smiled a small, grateful smile at Kiku before another wrenching scream distracted him.

Kiku was almost regretful, then, experience just how tight Sadiq's grip could be.

* * *

Ivan came over at about seven, which was when Yao had instructed to. He actually brought his own change of clothes and everything, too.

Yao was already in red pajamas pants and a t-shirt, so Ivan changed into his immediately.

"I was in the middle of one of my shows, come sit by me," Yao said, patting the couch beside him.

Ivan, knowing already knowing that he wasn't going to be interested in whatever show this was, sat and pulled Yao to lean against him.

"Sorry, there aren't subtitles," Yao explained, pressing play and wrapping his arms around Ivan's waist when Ivan put his arm over his shoulder, nuzzling into Ivan's shoulder.

Ivan was still giddy in his stomach whenever he could get so close to Yao, despite it being rather normal now.

"Is this show in Spanish?" Ivan asked suddenly, once it registered that the actors were not speaking any eastern language.

"I think Chilean and Argentine dramas are the best," Yao shrugged. "Although not as good as Chinese. Chinese are naturally _the_ best."

" _Naturally_."

"Hey, shut up," Yao said, playfully punching Ivan's arm.

Ivan just laughed it off.

Yao then shushed him, and was consumed by the show. Ivan, knowing absolutely no Spanish, zoned out. He stroked his hand through the ends of Yao's ponytail distractedly.

Once the show was done, Yao stretched and lay back on the couch, putting his legs up on Ivan's lap, grinning at Ivan.

"I think tonight is a good night to cuddle. I don't really feel like doing anything else," Yao said, languidly arching and cracking his back.

"Okay."

"I thought it would be fun to make s'mores, too, so I bought all that stuff. We can roast marshmallows over the stove." Yao rolled onto his feet and went into the kitchen and Ivan followed close behind.

"We can just use forks to roast them on," he continued, turning on a burner. The flame jumped to life and Yao opened the bag of marshmallows. He grabbed forks and passed one to Ivan.

"I've never actually roasted a marshmallow before. How do you do it?"

Yao shrugged, stabbing one onto his fork's prongs. "You just have to learn it, I guess."

The first attempt was terrible, and only half of it melted, the other side got crispy but not all the way cooked. Ivan made a face, biting into the inconsistent treat. Ivan enviously watched Yao eat his beautifully golden brown marshmallow.

"Just keep trying."

His second attempt burst into flames. Yao couldn't help his laughter at Ivan's look of disgust, crestfallenness, and frustration.

"Don't laugh at me, you suck," he pouted.

"Oh come on, I'll make you one, okay?"

Yao did, and Ivan was both cursing and praising the perfection of that marshmallow.

"So what's with this anyway, wanting to have a sleepover with s'mores and everything, all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. Everything's been so serious, lately. I wanted to relax. This kind of stuff reminds me of being a teenager. Have I ever told you about my cousin Leon? Oh, I guess you've apparently met him. Well, I have tea with him often, but yesterday morning when I dropped by, he wasn't there. Before I knew it, he's being dropped off by some boy, and he's giving this kid a kiss goodbye."

"Emil?"

"Yeah, I found that out later. They've been dating for a year- this boy who I speak to _every week,_ and he didn't even tell me! Aiyah, kids these days." Yao shook his head. "But anyway, this reminded me of me, because when I was a senior, my father 'forbade' me from going to prom, but I already had a date and everything, so I snuck out and went, and event went to the after party, and that was the first time I ever had alcohol and my first hangover, and waking up that next day I realized just how right my father had been. Probably the most right he had ever been, the bastard." Yao laughed, and Ivan just smiled.

"You know you could've just not gone to the party?"

"What teenager can pass up a party when their girlfriend wants to go?"

Ivan bowed his head with a smiled, and looked back up curiously. "Did you really like your girlfriend?"

Yao shrugged. "You know, I assumed I was straight back then. Figured I'd be more physically attracted to girls when I was older, despite what they said about teenage boys and their libido," Yao laughed. "Man was I wrong."

Ivan laughed too.

* * *

Sadiq and Kiku left the theater holding hands.

"Herakles probably took the car. Do you want me to walk you home?" Sadiq asked. It was still new to him, treating Kiku as more than just a friend. He liked the feeling that Kiku's smile gave him, and he smiled back.

"Actually, I told Yao I would be gone for the night, so he probably has his boyfriend over and I do _not_ want to walk in on any of that."

"Oh, so, to my place?"

Kiku nodded, linking arms with Sadiq (they had about a foot height difference, and it would be too difficult to hold hands), and starting to walk down the street towards Sadiq and Herakles' apartment.

It was a very nice evening, and a lot of flower vendors were set up along the busy street.

"It would be nice to bring Herakles some flowers. What kinds does he like?" Kiku said, eyeing a particularly well stocked and reasonably priced stand.

"What kinds of… flowers does he like? I don't know," Sadiq said, dumbfounded by the idea of bringing _flowers_ to _Herakles_.

"You don't know? Haven't you ever bought him flowers?" Kiku raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

Kiku tsked him and pulled him to a hault in front of one of the stands. "I think he'd like lilies. Buy that one."

Sadiq grumbled a little, but did as he was told, handing a fiver to the man behind the table. "I don't know if he even _likes_ flowers," he said, taking the packaged bouquet.

Kiku shrugged. "Even if he doesn't, I do," and Sadiq didn't say any more.

They made the rest of the walk in quiet companionship.

Outside the apartment, door, they paused.

Sadiq rubbed the back of his neck. "Herakles is probably home." Kiku nodded. "This was fun."

Kiku nodded again. "If you wanted to, you could probably kiss me on the cheek," he said slyly, smiling a private little smile up at Sadiq.

Sadiq felt like _such_ a grade schooler, but that smile gave him butterflies. He wondered if Kiku could see his flush despite his tan. He leaned down and pressed a quick peck to Kiku's cheek—which was really soft, damn—and stood back up quickly. Kiku smiled sweetly.

"You can open the door now."

Sadiq nodded curtly. "Right. Yeah. The door."


	54. Formal and Polite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas watched Matthias' eyes, scanned his body. There was heavy bandaging over his head, his left eye covered. His left arm was also bandaged, a sling supporting it. He was sat up slightly, and the bandaging also wrapped around his upper torso.
> 
> Tino, on the other hand, watched Lukas. His brow was hard set as it usually was, and his eyes were hard to read. His body language, however, was tense, and only by the set of his jaw could Tino tell that Lukas wanted to touch Matthias' hand. Intimacy was a very private matter for Lukas, so Tino took this as a cue to go get some water.
> 
> "I'll be right back, okay?" Tino said, getting to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so the words between the / /s today are in russian.
> 
> also i recently changed my tumblr url again this time it's 'meme-loving-bastard'. thanks.
> 
> enjoy

It was a warm morning, waking up the next day.

Yao pulled away from where he had been snuggled against Ivan's chest and stretched.

"What time is it?"

Ivan grunted and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't know. It feels too early, though."

Yao laughed softly. "Stop being such a whiny baby, darling."

Ivan hummed, stretching and putting an arm over Yao's shoulder again. Yao leaned his head back against him.

Slowly, painfully, Ivan began to wake up. He leaned over and kissed Yao's cheek. Yao was staring up at the ceiling. He looked deep in though, and barely reacted to Ivan's kiss.

"I want to get something off my chest," Yao said.

Ivan felt too tired still for a conversation, but who was he to stop Yao from talking? "Okay."

"I guess I've felt awkward talking about this before, but at this point, I THINK IT'S IMPORTANT." He looked at Ivan, his face rather serious."I've slept with a total of five people. There was this one girl after high school but before culinary school. I really liked her but something didn't feel right- I didn't know I was gay at that point. Then that one room mate of mine- I told you about him."

Ivan nodded, wondering what brought this topic up all of a sudden.

"And then there was Lars. It's funny because I did care about that first boy a lot, but we didn't have chemistry like me and Lars. And I didn't really care about Lars- all those feelings were just illusions, I think- but we had great sex. I don't know, at one time I thought I 'loved' him, but in retrospect, that really wasn't love and I think I knew it, even then." Yao faltered there, glancing around the room. "After he left, I laid off from having relationships for a while, but I did see one guy pretty regularly. I can't remember his name for the life of me. Anyway, that was when I was about twenty four. HE started developing feelings for me though, so I stopped replying to his texts. And since I was already living with Kiku, we only ever met at his place, so he really couldn't find me no matter how much he wanted to. Isn't that cruel of me?" Yao asked, smiling a strange smile and looking at Ivan.

Ivan shrugged, "Couldn't you have broken up with him?"

Yao hummed. "That's not really how those things work. Anyway, a year or so later, I started hooking up with another guy, and we actually started dating and getting pretty serious. Unfortunately, just like with you, Kiku got involved. He was really mean that time, and my boyfriend broke up with me two weeks later. That was four years ago and I haven't tried dating anyone since." Yao nodded, almost to himself. "Any questions?"

Ivan thought this all over. He did have questions, but they weren't really about Yao's sex life than sex itself. His questions seemed really personal, too personal to actually ask. Although, this was a pretty personal topic to begin with.

"So, you have a lot of experience, right?" Ivan started, awkwardly.

Yao smiled, bemused, and nodded.

"Have you been in both... positions, then?" Ivan asked, more tentatively.

"Positions? Ah, I get what you mean, Yeah, I've been in both." Yao said it so casually, shrugging dismissively.

Ivan nodded. From what little he knew about the mechanics of gay sex, he imagined that everyone would prefer the 'top'. He wondered if this was true for Ya, too. He couldn't imagine the 'bottom' being very comfortable at all.

"And do you have a … preference?"

"Uh, I don't know, "Yao tilted his head to one side and looked at the wall. "Probably bottom," he ceded at last, shrugging.

"Really?" Ivan asked, surprised.

Yao shrugged. Ivan didn't get it. What was so great about someone sticking it in your butt?

"What does it even feel like?" he blurted before he could hope to censor himself.

"Oh?" Yao raised an amused brow. "I suppose I could show you, some time."

Ivan was taken aback by the suggestive nature of that comment, and how casually Yao had said it. "W- what?"

Yao looked at Ivan, saw how flustered that comment had made Ivan, and realized how Ivan had interpreted him. "No, oh no, I meant like, fingering, not actually- come on, Ivan, you didn't think- oh my god."

"O-oh, um, okay," Ivan's face was bright red.

"Another time, though. It's way too early for that kind of thing."

Ivan nodded in agreement.

* * *

"/Do you have all your bags packed/?" Yekaterina asked for the fifth time, fussing over Natalya's collar.

"/Yes, yes. I'm sure I have everything. Toris and his father are going to be here soon. Can you help me take my things outside/?"

Yekaterina nodded and took the two bigger bags. They set the bags on the front porch.

"/I cannot believe that you're going to school already. You need to write to me a lot and tell me everything that happens/."

Natalya nodded.

"/And make sure you keep Ivan in line. And stay in contact with Eduard and Raivis. They're going to miss you a lot. Make sure Toris doesn't get in trouble. Take care of yourself and him/."

Natalya laughed softly, nodding dutifully.

Toris' father pulled up in an old white car then, and Toris himself popped out of the passenger side to help Natalya carry her bags to the trunk.

Yekaterina could feel herself choking up as she watched Natalya pack her things in next to Toris'.

"/Well, I guess this is good bye for now, big sister/," Natalya said to Yekaterina, offering a hug. Yekaterina squeezed her tight.

When she let go, Natalya stood an arm's length back from her and nodded. She turned toward Toris' car.

"/Wait! We cam e to say good bye, too/!" someone called from up the street a house or two.

Toris and Natalya looked, and were happy to find Eduard and Raivis running toward them.

"/Did you two run all the way here.?" Toris asked incredulously.

"/We didn't want you guys to leave before we could say good bye/," Eduard said, bent over and breathing hard. Raivis nodded, unable to voice it himself because he was already crying.

Toris smiled kindly at Raivis. "/Don't cry. I'll be back to visit, my mother will make sure of it/." Raivis nodded, shaking the hand Toris offered.

Once Eduard caught his breath, he stood, and Natalya offered him a small smile.

"/I really am going to miss you guys/," he said, hugging Natalya. "/Sorry I'm not coming with you/."

"/Don't be sorry for something you can't control, idiot/," she rebuked.

He just rolled his eyes. "/Well, good luck in college/."

"/You too, good luck/."

* * *

Lukas and Tino went to visit Matthias that day. When they came in, there was a nurse checking his status.

"Oh, you're Mr. Nikkelsen's friends?" they nodded, taking seats on either side of Matthias' bed. 'I have very good news for you, then. This morning, Mr. Nikkelsen woke up. He didn't say much- asked for a glass of water- before he fell back asleep, but it's a very good sign. We've already informed his family. They must be worried sick, having such a young son under such intensive care. I can't imagine."

Lukas ignored her continued babbling. "I wonder why they didn't call me. His family and I are pretty close..." Lukas wondered aloud, raising an eyebrow at Tino. Tino shrugged. .The nurse left.

Lukas and Tino sat in silence, contemplating Matthias.

"I bet you feel better knowing that he woke up, huh?" Tino asked, a smile on his face.

Lukas shot Tino a glare. "Yes."

Lukas watched Matthias' eyes, scanned his body. There was heavy bandaging over his head, his left eye covered. His left arm was also bandaged, a sling supporting it. He was sat up slightly, and the bandaging also wrapped around his upper torso.

Tino, on the other hand, watched Lukas. His brow was hard set as it usually was, and his eyes were hard to read. His body language, however, was tense, and only by the set of his jaw could Tino tell that Lukas wanted to touch Matthias' hand. Intimacy was a very private matter for Lukas, so Tino took this as a cue to go get some water.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Tino said, getting to his feet.

Lukas nodded, watching him go gratefully. Only once Tino was out the door and down the hall a little did Lukas move closer to the bed, taking Matthias' hand between his. It was cold from being exposed to the room, but quickly gained heat from Lukas' warm hands.

Lukas watched his face more intently. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, Matthias would wake up and greet him. He was relieved to hear that Matthias had already woken up that day, and doubted that he would have enough energy to hold any sort of conversation if he did wake up, but Lukas would feel a lot better if he did.

There were a lot of things that Lukas had to say to him.

He squeezed Matthias' hand and put his forehead to the back of his own hand. "Wake up, idiot," he said softly.

He could hear Matthias breathing, and he closed his eyes shut tight. When they were in middle school they would have sleepovers a lot, and Lukas was always kept up at night by how loudly Matthias breathed. He was a deep sleeper, too, so it wasn't like Lukas could kick him awake and actually have a chance to sleep. It was annoying. However, now, Matthias breathed so softly, and Lukas was so worried.

Lukas wouldn't be able to tell how long he was sitting there for. At one point he slid his fingers along to feel the pulse point at Matthias' wrist. He had been so worried over the weekend, it had been hell, and here Matthias was, still breathing, his heart still beating. Lukas almost felt dumb for beating himself up so badly. Matthias had woken up. He was okay.

Lukas had been squeezing Matthias' hand tightly for an undetermined amount of time. Lukas expect his hand to be totally white from pressure. He hadn't expected to feel Matthias' hand squeeze his back.

Lukas barely contained a gasp, peering up at Matthias with wide, searching eyes. Matthias' eyelid, the one not obscured by bandages, was moving, and slowly, he opened his eye, blinking against the bright whiteness of the hospital room. Tino slipped back into the room silently around this time, but Lukas ignored him.

Lukas was frozen, stunned, relief washing over him. He was leaning back in his seat, his hand still holding tight to Matthias'. He watched as Matthias quietly observed his surroundings, his eye finally landing on Lukas. Matthias smiled wide.

"Hello," Matthias said with a warm voice, his eye scrutinizing Lukas. He looked a little confused. Tino moved a little closer to the bed, careful to be as unobtrusive as possible.

"Matthias, how do you feel?" Lukas trained his voice to remain calm, inexpressive. He was giddy with all the thoughts racing through his mind- he had so much to tell Matthias, but how would he do it? He hadn't even thought about it. He had to tell Matthias how he felt.

Matthias had noticed Tino, now, too, and gave him the same 'hello' as he had Lukas.

"You've had us all worried sick, you know," Tino said, cautiously cheerful, scooting his chair close to Matthias' bed.

"I'm sorry," Matthias said, looking more dazed. His brow was knit loosely, not showing any definite emotion, but Lukas still took note of this. Something seemed off. "I'm sorry, what happened? My arm hurts an awful lot. Where are we?"

Lukas could feel his blood turn cold. "Matthias..." He was acting so formal and polite. Something was definitely wrong.

Lukas squeezed his hand tighter, and Matthias turned his gaze back to him. He was still smiling, so friendly, but there was no recognition in his eyes. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Lukas felt sick. He let his face fall to a blank slate, hiding all emotion. His heart was hammering. "Tino, please find a doctor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i think i have about 25 chapters left of this thing. i hope you guys don't get too bored, lol.
> 
> this was probably the most difficult chapter to write- it was supposed to be 2x as long, but i wanted to actually post something before i left for 4th of july weekend, lol. idek what was so difficult about it, but i sat staring at my journal for like two hours trying to write the first bit with yao and ivan? sorry if it seemed rushed today.
> 
> the story's getting rly hyper involved, but i swear there is a method to my madness...
> 
> ok, thank you, please review and have a safe 4th of july for my american readers- that means no blowing up bottle rockets at living things. god just don't do that that's stupid. and don't mess around with dry ice or other homemade explosives, at least not too liberally. ok ok bye


	55. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is shorter than i wanted it to be bc i really just wanted to post SOMETHING before i leave this week for a lil vacation.  
> im going to try to get a lot posted in the next couple days. hopefully it won't be too hot for me to work x x

Emil was doing homework in the living room when Lukas came home.

He was eerily calm and passive, unlike he'd been since Matthias had been in the hospital.

Emil knew something was wrong, and watched Lukas hang his coat up, quietly make his way to the kitchen as if in a trance.

Something was very wrong when Lukas returned with a cup of tea- not coffee- and sat on the couch across from Emil. Emil pretended to read his textbook, but he honestly couldn't focus with Lukas' intense gaze on him. Finally, he gave in and looked up.

"How's Matthias?"

"Oh," Lukas said, his voice forcibly conversational, "he's woken up." He bobbed his tea bag in his water absently, staring at his cup. "He just... can't remember anything." He said the last part so softly, almost bemusedly, and Emil could hear sirens going off in his head.

"Anything?" Emil asked. This was really bad. Emil knew that Lukas has been on the verge of a mental breakdown since that night, and he had a feeling may be the final straw.

"Anything," Lukas confirmed coldly.

Lukas was still sitting, apparently transfixed with his cup, and Emil stared at him. Tonight was going to be hard.

"What did the doctors say?" Emil asked tentatively. He had to tread lightly; he didn't want to make this worse.

"They said it was temporary."

Emil nodded slowly. "That's good."

"Oh, yeah, it's great," Lukas said, standing. "I'm going to go read." He trudged up stairs without another word.

Emil knew that that actually meant he was going to get shitfaced drunk. Their house was built with a study room, right next to Emil's bedroom, and the shelves were covered with built-in shelves stacked with books. More recently, however, Lukas had moved aside some of the books and replaced them with liquor bottles.

When Emil went to bed that night, Lukas had not come out from the study since he had secluded himself in there a few hours before. Through the walls, Emil could hear the occasional clank of glass as he poured another shot. When Lukas would let out a particularly loud sigh, Emil would hear and his heart would ache. He wanted to be able to comfort Lukas, take away the bottle and make him go to bed, but he was sure that would just make Lukas angry. And he really didn't want to see his brother in that state, anyway. He was a bit of a coward, he would admit it.

It was a quarter till midnight and Emil couldn't sleep when the sobbing started, interrupted by the occasional painful moan.

Emil couldn't sleep through this, frozen in his bed and biting his lip. He could imagine Lukas, lowered to the floor and gripping a bottle of booze. HE could imagine his cheeks wet and red even as he tried to smother the pitiful sounds he was making. His hands were shaking, Emil was sure of it, if not his whole body. Emil and never heard Lukas cry like this before. It rattled him, made his heart ache and his lungs hurt. His head pounded. He wanted to sleep and be able to to ignore what his brother must be feeling but he _couldn't do anything_.

He could imagine what Lukas was thinking. 'It's my fault. If I had encouraged him to stay the night...' 'What if he never remembers me...'

'What if he does remember, and he blames me for this happening to him.'

'What if I tell him my feelings and he hates me for it.'

Emil did not sleep that night.

* * *

Ivan was a little distracted that next day. He was still a little embarrassed over Yao's off that morning. That was, perhaps, how he completely ignored and didn't notice the excited chatter at the bar at work that night. The club still hadn't opened, and everyone was huddled at the bar, as per usual. Ivan stood nearby, listening to none of what they were saying.

It was unfortunate, though, that he didn't listen, but if he had been paying attention he'd have learned two important things. First, that Matthias had woken up with amnesia earlier that day. Second, he'd have heard that Antonio and Lovino were getting married in August (the date had been decided on almost immediately after the engagement had been announced to Mama Carriedo and Grandpa Augustus).

Tino was naturally the one who reported on Matthias, but no one really knew where the info on Antonio and Lovino came from. Lars was working that day, but he hadn't even come in from the alley where he was smoking before everyone was abuzz with the news.

At one point, Antonio had come asking for where Lars was, and Tino hesitantly pointed him out to the alley.

Everyone knew it was awkward to talk about Lars' cancer. In fact, after the first night that it had been revealed that Lars had cancer, almost no one ever talked about it. They knew Lars still smoked, and most of them figured that he was going to do himself in with it one way or another- and that it was his right to do so without scrutiny from the rest of them.

Antonio and Bella were trying to get him to stop smoking. Obviously, from the looks of an angry Antonio leading a bored and flippant looking Lars, still holding the butt of his cigarette, back into the club, it wasn't working.

Privately, everyone was wondering how much longer Lars would even be able to work. He was pale, seeming to be physically smaller than he really was, and still wearing that hat.

Ivan watched Antonio bring Lars to a corner and tell him off. He really wasn't paying attention, rather running over his own personal problems and dilemmas in his head.

Before Ivan even noticed, the club was opening and people were filing in. Francis was among them, and he greeted Ivan very amicably, waking Ivan from his own thoughts.

"Hello, Francis," Ivan responded monotonously, exasperated by the man's never ending flamboyance. He was wearing some awful bright purple skinny jeans, which Ivan eyed with disgust. Francis, recognizing this, just grinned and all but pranced away. Ivan took a moment to ponder the absence of Franc's poss- no Gilbert, weird- before forgetting about it altogether.

Francis quickly sought out Antonio in his back office.

"Hello~" he sang, swinging the door shut behind him and sitting on Antonio's desk. "I have the funniest story to tell you."

Antonio smiled up at his friend and put his pen and papers aside. "Alright, then I'll have a story for you, too."

"Well, Gil had a date tonight- he said it was a 'blind date'; he still thinks we don't know about Elizaveta- so naturally I went and helped him pick out an outfit because he has the fashion sense of a horse," Antonio nodded, chuckling a bit. No one let Gilbert dress himself when it came to important or formal events. "So who is at the Beilschmidt's apartment but cute little Feliciano. And Feliciano was telling Ludwig this adorable little story that Gilbert and I couldn't help but overheard, and you will never guess how shocked we were by it."

"What was the story?"

Francis dropped the smile and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you know it," he insisted.

"I'm sure I don't sorry," Antonio said, smiling obliviously.

Francis gave him a scowl. "He told us that Lovino proposed to you!" he exclaimed. "You didn't tell us! How dare you make me hear about one of my best friend's engagements through an outside source! How degrading," he ended dramatically.

"Oh! So you already know? That was going to be my story to tell. Well, I'm sorry, I've just been so busy. My Mama and Lovi's Grandpa are planning it all, you know, and they already know the date and everything."

"You know the date of your wedding before you even told your two best friends. Wow, Antonio."

"Look, when my Mama wants something done, she does it immediately. She already has invitations printed out and distributed to our family. She told Grandpa Augustus to have a list of names and addresses to her by next week for Lovi's family."

"You better have one of those invites for me."

"of course. I've got a stack on the cabinet over there. She sent me to work today with a dozen or so, so I could invite all my employees, too."

"That is the makes of a huge wedding," Francis said with a raised brow as he hopped up to grab one of the cards off the cabinet.

Antonio shrugged. "I think my Mama's figuring that Ricardo's not going to let her have a big wedding for him if he ever does get married, so this is her one big chance."

Francis laughed. "You mom is so cute."

* * *

Elizaveta lived in the apartment above Symposium. She woke up every day at three thirty so she could get ready and open shop by five.

Gilbert technically lived with his brother Ludwig and generally woke up at ten so he could get a bowl of cereal before his favorite cartoon started on Nickelodeon.

So, when Gilbert spends the night at Liza's, he _hates_ waking up and he _hates_ her alarm clock with every fiber of his being.

"Gilbert, you have to let me get up," Elizaveta mumbled, trying to detach Gilbert, who had wound his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her back in attempts to prevent her from leaving the warm bed.

He whined when she started slapping at his arms. "It's too early," he complained.

"Stop being a baby. You don't have to get up right now, just let me go."

"Then the bed will be cold."

"Your dead body will be cold if you don't let go of me in the next five seconds," she threatened. He made an offended sound in his throat, but loosened his grip. Liza stood and stretched, yawning, before going to the bathroom. When she came back out, Gilbert was out like a light again. She rolled her eyes fondly and smiled as she got dressed.

Tired, she made her way down stairs to make herself some coffee before the work day started. Out of the goodness of her heart, once she completed her own drink, she started making a sweet, syrupy drink she knew would wake Gilbert up.

The shop opened at five AM, but at four forty five, she heard a knock on the door. Glancing up from the machine, ready to tell whoever it was to come back in fifteen minutes, she was surprised to see Ludwig peering in the window.

She went and unlocked the door and let him in.

"Thank you, Elizaveta. I'm looking for my brother. He didn't come home last night and he didn't call to let me know if he was staying with you, and he's not answering his phone right now, so I thought I'd check here before I start looking at the bars."

Elizaveta smiled sympathetically. It was so Ludwig to expect Gilbert to be a responsible adult and let him know where he was going, or be able to answer his phone coherently before nine AM.

"He's here, don't worry. I'm sorry he worried you," she said through a yawn.

Ludwig was an accountant who worked a full-time job from six to two, and he was awake, showered, clean shaven, and actually alert this early. Even Elizaveta was impressed. How was he related to Gilbert again?

"Since you're here so early and it's partially my fault, how about I make you a coffee?"

Ludwig stood awkwardly near the door, and Elizaveta could tell he wasn't going to accept. "Actually, Feliciano is asleep in the car, and I need to drop him off at home before I get to work. Thank you though," he explained, a light blush on his cheeks as he avoided looking at Elizaveta.

Ludwig was so cute. How the hell was he related to Gil again?

"Alright, well, drive safe. Make sure he gets into his place, we don't want him falling asleep on the way to his door," Elizaveta laughed, waving him off. He blushed and laughed, a bit forced, and left.

Elizaveta smiled and picked up the two cups of coffee she'd made, going back to the stairs and up to her room.

"Gilbert," she cooed, sitting on the bed beside him.

"Mmf," he said, not moving an inch.

"Gilbert, it's time to wake up. Ludwig came looking for you."

"Tell him to go away," he said, rolling to face away from Elizaveta, pressing his face into the pillow.

"He's gone. But you need to get up before I open the shop."

"Whyyy," he pouted, snuggling more under the sheets.

"I brought you coffee."

That perked him up, got him sitting up and looking at Elizaveta, taking the cup from her gratefully.

"Oh my god you are the most beautiful thing I've seen this early in the morning in my entire life."

Elizaveta rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.

Gilbert did too, and Elizaveta watched the look of visible pleasure come over Gilbert.

"Marry me," he breathed, looking at Liza with big eyes.

Elizaveta laughed, like really laughed, and Gilbert laughed with her for almost a full minute. Elizaveta was shaking her head, a hand on her chest trying to control her laughs. Marriage? Elizaveta laughed a little more.

They sat and drank their coffee on the bed in the early morning light. The sun was just about to rise.

"If you get up and get dressed, I'll make you breakfast."

"I really love you."

"You'd better," she said, standing up.

"I really, really love you," he followed her off the bed, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky grin when she returned it.

"Whatever. Hurry up. I open shop in less than ten minutes. Come down stairs in no less than a shirt, pants, and pair of shoes. I will not have you scaring off my early customers _again_ because you didn't think you needed pants," she said, trailing off toward the top of the stairs.

"Okay that was _one time_ and you need to learn to _let it go_ ," he shouted after her.

He grinned and went about taking his neatly folded clothes from last night and putting them on. He sat on the bed for a moment once he was fully dressed and smiled at his hands. He smiled, remembering Elizaveta's laughing face when he jokingly 'proposed'.

It would have been a lot funnier for him if he was completely joking.

 


	56. Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why don't you let Matthias look at all those photos, Lukas?" Tino asked.
> 
> "Can't."
> 
> "Why not?" Matt asked, eyes wide.
> 
> "Because I look bad in most of them."

Emil trudged into school the next day in a sour mood. He hadn't sleep nearly at all, and his eyes hurt, and he had a terrible headache. He collapsed onto a chair, dropping his backpack inelegantly onto the ground by his feet.

Leon, who sat at a desk across the room from Emil, gave Emil a questioning look that Emil didn't respond to.

Class was about to start, so instead of getting up and asking Emil what was wrong, Leon took out an index card, wrote down his question, folded it, and asked the person beside him to pass it to Emil.

He glanced at Emil when he saw someone pass it to him, out of the corner of his eye so the teacher wouldn't notice. He saw Emil stare at it blankly for seconds before picking up his pencil and answering, sending it back to Leon.

It read,

"What's wrong? -Leon

Nothing."

Leon furrowed his brows.

After class, Leon quickly grabbed his books for second period, and went to Emil's locker. He leaned next to it.

"What," Emil asked him, his voice scratchy.

"You know what, like, _I'm_ the one who wants to know 'what'."

Emil paused and looked at Leon tiredly. "It's too early for whatever you're saying." He shut his locker and turned toward his next class. Leon stepped into his space and prevented him from leaving, putting Emil himself and the lockers. He looked up at Emil, determined.

"I know something's up, and you need to tell me."

Emil recoiled a bit from Leon, but he understood Leon's concern. He sighed, irritated but not really all _that_ irritated, and said, "Fine, yeah, I'll tell you at lunch, okay?"

Leon studied Emil for a moment before nodding and backing off. Second period was starting in just a moment, so they had to hurry off to his class in the next hall.

At lunch, Emil simply told Leon that Matthias woke up with amnesia and that Lukas reacted badly, so he didn't get any sleep. He was too tired to give more detail.

He didn't tell Leon how stressed out he was. He felt a lot of sympathy for Lukas, so seeing him in the state he was in was really very difficult. He didn't want to go home.

He wished he could just stop caring, or maybe even just go over to Leon's house, but he couldn't do either because Leon's parents were having guests over.

As the school day ended, Emil said goodbye to Leon, and trudged toward the school's entrance, trying to take his time and stall his going home. If he was lucky, Lukas would already be out at a bar, or maybe Tino forced him to have dinner with him and Berwald.

Emil, though he didn't often admit it, loved Lukas, but Lukas was generally a vacuum of happiness when he got in a particular mood. Their mother was so happy and she used to be so active, but Lukas has always been abnegating and annoying. Emil assumed Lukas got this genetically from their father. He wasn't sure, of course, since it had been a while since he'd last seen their father. Emil couldn't remember if he was eleven or twelve when their father had left.

On a normal day, Emil never thought about their father. On bad days, his thoughts were always somewhere land on their father, and his mood would worsen considerably. At one point, these thoughts had always made him sad, but now they would just make him bitter.

Emil had such a ray of emotions coursing through him, he had to go back to thinking about Lukas. At least that subject wasn't all bad.

Lukas didn't really have friends, aside from Matthias, and maybe Tino. He became friends with Tino because Matthias was friends with him. Berwald was, therefore, friends with Matt and Lukas by association with Tino. God, that's so sad, but Lukas did it to himself by isolating himself and acting distant and apathetic. That's exactly how Lukas has been even to Emil, distant, apathetic and pretty judgmental, most of Emil's life. He has moments of tenderness, Emil supposed, but that only served to confuse Emil.

Emil was caught out of his revery, walking through the nearly empty parking to of his school, when he saw another boy from his first period class sitting on the curb. Emil turned to avoid walking by him, but it was tool ate, because the boy saw him and jumped to his feet, apparently wanting to talk to Emil.

"Hey! Emil, right?" he asked, falling into step next to him.

Emil looked at him uncomfortably and nodded.

"You looked really tense in class today. I mean, you're always tense looking, but particularly today. What's up, buddy?"

Emil was nonplussed and somewhat creeped out. "Nothing."

"You sure? I think I could help you relax a bit. How 'bout it?"

Emil tried to ignore him and walk faster. "I'm not interested." He knew this kid's reputation.

"Well, it really would help," he shuffled something his pocket and took out a lighter. "Come on, just try it?"

Emil paused.

* * *

The doctors suggested that friends of Matthias bring in memorabilia that might help Matthias get over his amnesia- photographs, yearbooks, or anything else of significance.

Lukas stubbornly resisted coming back, telling Tino that his last little visit had done nothing to help his nerves, but Tino was able to persuade him to come along- 'It'll help Matthias; you're the only one who can really help him'.

So, after digging through his mother's old photo books of Lukas rowing up, he was able to compile a whopping seventy eight photos of Matthias and him.

Matthias was sleeping when they came into the room. They took their same seats as the time before, and waited for Matthias to wake up. Matthias' eye was no longer partially covered by the head bandage, but his arm was still in the sling.

Tino put a hand on Matthias' arm after a while and light cooed, "Matt, wake up."

"Is it really alright to wake him up?" Lukas asked quietly.

"Sure it is."

There was a fluttering behind Matt's eyelids, and then he opened them. He was drowsy, and Lukas felt they really shouldn't have woken him up.

He saw Tino and grinned, "Hi!" he broke off with a yawn. "Did you bring me anything today?" he asked excitedly. Matthias didn't take any notice of Lukas yet. Lukas raised an eyebrow at Tino, wondering what Tino had brought him before. Tino looked back at Lukas guiltily.

"I might've brought him a bit of cake Berwald made the other day. Sorry, Matt, I don't have anything today. Can you remember my name, though?"

Matt only hesitated a moment before he responded, "Tino, right?"

Tino smiled and nodded. "And this is Lukas. He was there when you first woke up. Do you remember that?"

Matthias redirected his attention to Lukas. "A little bit. What did _you_ bring?" he asked Lukas, eying the photo album on his lap.

"I brought pictures of us," Lukas stated simply.

"Us? There are that many?"

Lukas nodded, flipping the album open.

"You don't remember, but we've been best friends since we were twelve."

"Wow, I must like you a lot, huh?"

Lukas nodded, taking a photo out and showing Matthias. "This was in seventh grade when we had a field trip to the beach. You thought it would be funny to put a crab on my shoulder so I pushed you into the water." The picture showed a disgruntled young chubby-faced Lukas next to a soaked Matthias on the beach. Matthias had long hair, down to his shoulders, covering his eyes. Both of them were the same height.

Matthias laughed and took the photo from Lukas. "I put a crab on you?"

"You were an asshole kid, honestly."

Matthias laughed, "I remember _that_."

"Here's one from freshmen year, first day of school. My mom wanted a picture of both of us that morning, so she drove over to your house just to take this picture."

Matthias' hair was really short in this photo, like he had it shaved really short a month or two before, and Lukas' hair was really disheveled, like he just woke up. Lukas also had an outbreak of acne across his cheeks and forehead, and Matthias had braces.

"Oh my god, I remember having braces; it sucked!" Matthias exclaimed. He was laying the photos on his lap, looking back between them.

"Why don't you let Matthias look at all those photos, Lukas?" Tino asked.

"Can't."

"Why not?" Matt asked, eyes wide.

"Because I look bad in most of them."

"Tch, I'm sure that's not true," Matthias scoffed, trying to grab at the album. Lukas picked it up and held it out of Matthias' reach until he gave up.

"Here, here's a good one. Senior year, prom night," Lukas said, picking out another one. He showed Matthias.

"Whoa, that girl's really pretty! Was she my date?" Matthias took the picture and studied it. "I think I remember her. I was on a sports team, right? Didn't I play football?"

Lukas nodded.

"I don't see your date here, Lukas?"

Lukas smiled tensely and nodded. "I didn't have a date. Or a car. That's why you picked me up after her."

"Wow, I'm a good friend."

"Don't push it."

Matthias laughed raucously, and put the photo next to the others. Matthias was wearing a black suit with a red undershirt, and his hair was combed and everything- his girlfriend wore a matching red dress. Lukas wore a simple blue dress vest with a gray undershirt, his hair combed more effectively than Matt's.

"How didn't you have a date? You were pretty good looking."

Lukas gave Matthias a dead look, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up. Flattery won't get you any cake from me."

Matthias huffed and grumbled a little under his breath, "I wasn't _trying_ to get cake."

Lukas rolled his eyes again. "Here's a photo from graduation." Matthias and Lukas were in black graduation robes, Matthias' arm slung over Lukas' shoulder, a huge smile plastered on his face. Lukas was more subdued, looking like he just wanted to go home and sleep.

Matthias took it and studied it, and Lukas went back to flipping through the album. He smiled at one of them, which caught Matthias' attention.

"Show me, show me! What are you smiling at?"

Lukas sighed and shook his head, and pulled the picture out for him.

"This was the summer after we graduated, and you were helping me pack for college. My Mom came into my room and started talking about how weird it will be that I'll be off and you won't be coming around the house to hang out with me any more. You started crying," he showed Matthias the picture. They were both on their knees, surrounded by different boxes. Lukas was unenthusiastically folding clothes, glancing at a distraught Matthias out of the corner of his eye, and there was a slight quirk to his lips. Matthias was sitting, clutching one of Lukas' shirts like he was wringing it, his face set in a big pout.

Lukas laughed too, and smiled at it as he placed it beside the last one. "Can I keep these? Until I'm out of the hospital."

Lukas smiled, just a little tiny smile, looking down, and nodded.

Matthias grinned, looking back over all the photos he laid out. "Thank you."

* * *

Friday night, Ivan got a call from Yao. He had been waiting for it, and he was sick to the stomach with nerves for it.

"Hello?"

"Hey darling. I'm free this weekend and was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner?"

"Sounds very nice," Ivan answered in auto-pilot- his mind was too busy elsewhere. Was this when Yao wanted to go through with his offer from last week?

"Okay! Can I pick you up in an hour? It's rushed, sorry I didn't call earlier."

"That's fine. I'll be read. How should I dress?"

"Casual. Actually, you know that blue button down you have? Wear that."

Ivan laughed, but it sounded awkward and forced and Ivan hoped Yao couldn't hear how nervous he was.

"Okay, I'll see you then!"

Ivan went to his closet and pulled out a nice pair of jeans and a blue buttoned shirt. He wasn't sure if it was the one Yao was talking about because he had several blue shirts, but he was sure it would be fine.

Now he had fifty minutes. He sat in front of a mirror and wondered whether he should brush his hair. And if he did, which side should he brush it to? He took his comb and brushed it one way, then the other, and stared at himself. He decided it looked better to the left.

Then he fiddled with his collar, which refused to lie flat. And his cuffs- should he leave them at his wrists or roll them up to his elbows?

Maybe to the elbows was nice? It was really casual looking, though, so he unrolled them. Sure he was supposed to look 'casual', but how casual could you be at a dinner date?

He had to stop fidgeting- he went and sat on the couch. He still had twenty minutes. He sat and fiddled with the end of his shirt.

Yao knocked on the door a few minutes short of an hour. Ivan rushed to answer it, and Yao greeted him with a kiss.

"Do you think Pho sounds good, today? You liked it before, right?" Yao asked as they walked out to the car.

"Oh, yes, it sounds good."

"Good, Kiku found a really great place the other day, he said. He said he went there with 'friends'," Yao laughed. "I wonder what he'll call Herakles and Sadiq next."

Ivan laughed. He felt really nervous, but sitting alone and thinking about it probably made it a lot worse. Now that he was sitting in Yao's car, listening to Yao talk about his day, he felt a lot more confident in regards to whatever was to come.

The little Pho place had a nice, modern atmosphere, and Yao looked so at home in this completely new place. Ivan sat awkwardly, aware of how much room he was taking and how obviously he stuck out. He wasn't usually concerned about that type of thing, so why was he now?

Yao could tell that he felt awkward, so he took it upon himself to start a conversation. Ivan wasn't much of a talker when he was nervous.

"So Arthur told me that Lovino is trying to get Antonio to start looking for a replacement for Lars once he has to be hospitalized."

Ivan tilted his head. "Really? I hadn't heard anything about that."

"Oh, well, I suppose they're trying to keep it on the down low, then? Arthur always hears these things, you know. He and Tino sure are gossipy, aren't they?"

Ivan smiled and nodded, taking a drink of the water set down for them. He glanced around the restaurant, gauging how nicely others were dressed, cataloging what Yao was wearing, too. He was sure that he dressed nice enough. Ivan wondered if he looked attractive, if Yao liked it. Yao sure was cute, as always.

Yao sensed Ivan's discomfort and uncertainty.

"Your shirt looks nice, by the way Did you comb your hair?"

Ivan was slightly taken aback, and reached a hand up to fiddle with the side of his bangs, smiling shyly, "Yeah, I did."

Yao smiled.

Their food was put down very quickly, which was nice. Although, as they ate, Ivan seemed more relaxed since Yao noticed his shirt, Yao could tell he was still a little nervous. It was completely understandable, since he probably anticipated what Yao had planned for later, and it was really endearing, but Yao hoped that it was an okay-nervous- not an uncomfortable or unready nervous. He supposed that he'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

Ivan didn't talk much as he ate, which was normal, but for once Yao didn't talk much either. There wasn't much to say- he'd heard updates on Lars' condition from Bella, but he didn't want to talk about that now. Not tonight. It didn't seem like Ivan was holding a grudge on Lars for what had happened, but Lars in general was just an uncomfortable and unappealing topic of conversation.

As they finished their soup, there was more silence. It was a little uncomfortable, because Yao knew it was usually him who carried the conversation. The dishes were taken away and they got their checks, and as they waited for the waitress to bring back their receipts, Ivan looked at Yao with a nervous expectancy that made Yao nervous, too. What the hell? Why was Yao nervous?

"So," Yao started, "Do you want to come back to my place?"

Ivan swallowed, but nodded enthusiastically.

The receipts came, and the two of them went back to Yao's car.

It was a quiet ride home. Yao had been sure that he was ready to go a bit further with Ivan, but the vibes that Ivan was putting off were sort of deterring. If Ivan didn't want to, Yao would be okay to back out with him. But Ivan would be putting these vibes off whether they did this today or six months in the future, Yao knew.

They were home too soon and Yao was uncertain about the whole thing as they both made their way to his floor. Yao knew Kiku was out- spending the night at Sadiq and Herakles' _again_. (What did he even do over there?)

Ivan lingered by the door when they got into the apartment. Yao mulled it over for a moment before deciding that he would indeed need to take the immediate initiative if anything was going to happen.

He squared his shoulders and turned back to the door where Ivan was, and planted himself squarely in front of him.

Ivan instinctively bent down to let Yao kiss him. Yao slid his fingers into Ivan's hair, which was really soft from having been combed. Ivan was tense, but he parted his lips and leaned in, anyway.

Yao pressed against him, and Ivan stepped back a bit. He tripped up a little, but nothing major. It still made him blush profusely, and mutter something under his breath.

Yao noticed that Ivan wasn't making any noise, which was very out of character.

He pulled away from the kiss.

"You know, Ivan, if you don't want to do anything tonight, you can tell me."

"What? No, no I want to!" he insisted profusely.

"Okay, but you're acting really weird. I totally understand if you want to do it another time or something."

Ivan was struck by this, but nodded. "I'm sorry. I _thought_ I wanted to..."

Yao smiled, "No, don't apologize, let's watch a movie or something."

Ivan grinned and followed Yao to the couch. Yao flipped through the TV stations until he found something interesting. As usual, Ivan absolutely did not care about what it was. He was a little self conscious over backing out, but also relieved.

They watched TV for hours. Ivan didn't even know what time it was, but he wasn't getting tired. Yao laughed and reacted to the TV accordingly, completely engrossed. At some point, he curled up, pulling his feet onto the couch and rested his head against Ivan's shoulder.

This was a lot nicer than sitting in his room, fidgeting and worrying about the night. He'd worked himself to a nervous panicky state with all his fusing earlier, but now that it was just them, not in a restaurant with other people possibly watching, Ivan felt a lot more comfortable. Of course, it was always like that, but with the promise of such an intimate act as fingering that Ivan had been expecting once they got home, the nerves that Ivan may normally feel on dates were amplified.

Next time they tried this, Ivan knew that he would be just as nervous- maybe he would suggest a dinner at home?

At some point, Ivan thought that Yao was starting to fall asleep, nestled against his arm, so he leaned over and kissed him on the head. Yao looked up at him, evidently not asleep, and raised an eyebrow. "What was that for, darling?" He grinned and kissed Ivan's cheek. Ivan, not one to be outdone, pecked him on the lips. It escalated from there, Yao playfully pushing Ivan down onto the couch (this felt familiar now) and kissing down his neck. He bit back a moan unsuccessfully. Yao grinned against the skin and moved to his jawline. He was teasing Ivan, he knew, so Ivan ran his hands through his hair, easily pulling out the pony tail holder and letting Yao's hair fall over his shoulders. Yao huffed and rolled his eyes.

Finally, Yao actually _kissed_ him. Ivan melted. To Yao, this felt so much more natural than the kiss earlier. What made the difference? He would have to ask Ivan later.

When they pulled away, Yao had to take a moment to regain his breath.

"You know," Ivan said, breathing just a little harder than normal, "If you want, we could... have another go..."

"Go...?" Yao asked, unsure what Ivan meant.

"At, you know, what we were doing earlier."

Yao was interested. "Are you sure?"

Ivan smiled, an unsure but coy glint in his eye. "I think so, yes."

 


	57. Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all u need 2 know is it's  
> ~adult material~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so it's been like a month but that doesn't mean im not planning on finishing this.
> 
> it's been nearly a year since i started this and i'll be DAMNED if i don't finish it.
> 
> also my tumblr url is not unironic-hurdygurdy if anyone's wondering.
> 
> alright thank you read this and be satisfied idk when the next update will come :(

"Like, tonight?" Yao clarified.

"If… you want to. I feel a lot better about the whole idea now, I think," he said, rubbing his neck.

"Alright," Yao said, still a little unsure. "And if you want to stop-."

"I'll tell you."

Yao nodded, and grinned with a happy little bounce as he leaned over to kiss Ivan again.

Eventually, they fell onto Yao's bed together (Yao pushed Ivan down, but Ivan held onto his wrist instinctively so he came toppling down as well), and they laughed at their lack of grace together.

Ivan, feeling more confident, cupped Yao's face in his hands and planted one on him. Yao gasped a little tiny bit, unused to the sensation of _Ivan_ kissing _him_.

"Hey, spread your legs a bit," Yao told him through the kiss breathlessly.

Ivan groaned and did so, and Yao kneeled between Ivan's thighs. Yao pulled away from him, planting his hands on either side of Ivan's head, leaning over him. He pressed a wet kiss to Ivan's cheek and skirted his hands along the end of his shirt, pushing it up gently.

He kissed along Ivan's jaw, reaching his ear as he shoved the thin fabric of Ivan's shirt over his naval.

"We're not going to go very far, okay? I'll finger you like I said, and ask you before anything else, okay?" he whispered in Ivan's ear, breath hot on Ivan's skin.

"Yeah, okay," Ivan responded dazedly, closing his eyes.

Yao licked his lips and pulled away from Ivan's neck, leaning back so he could kiss Ivan's stomach, his fingers working on the top button of Ivan's shirt.

"You still seem really tense."

"I'm sorry; I've just never done anything like this before." Ivan was biting his lip, his abdomen muscles clenched and his brows furrowed as he focused on not embarrassing himself.

Yao finished undoing the last button on Ivan's shirt and rubbed his hand comfortingly over Ivan's torso. "Do you want a massage? I bet that would help you calm down." Yao smiled sweetly.

"That sounds nice."

"Flip over and take your shirt off," he said, getting off of Ivan and retrieving some lotion from his drawer.

Ivan put his face on his forearms, elbows our, and closed his eyes. He felt the dip of the bed as Yao came back, straddling his thighs.

Yao poured some lotion onto his hands and onto Ivan's back.

There was a tan scar on Ivan's lower back that Yao had never seen before, and as he rubbed Ivan's shoulders, he decided to ask about it.

"What's this scar here?"

"What scar?"

"Right here," Yao traced the wedge-shaped scar.

"Mmm," Ivan tried to shrug. "I was working with Kat and I got in her way and she turned quickly and accidentally hit me with her shovel."

"Hard enough to scar?"

Ivan nodded, awkward in his position.

Yao kneaded the tense muscles along his spine. He continued for several minutes until Ivan appeared relaxed and limp.

Leaning back onto his knees, Yao pulled his shirt off over his head and braced his weight on one hand above Ivan's head, leaning back in to say, "You aren't my any chance ticklish, are you?" before using the other hand to drag his fingertips up Ivan's side.

Ivan yelped and squirmed—"S-stop it! Hey!" He wriggled and laughed, bringing his hands down to shove Yao's away. He tried to get up, flip over, but Yao moved his hand to the middle of his shoulder blades to keep him down, still mercilessly tickling him, testing to see if his armpits were ticklish. Ivan cried out and tried to bring his arm close to himself to prevent Yao from tickling him further, laughing and protesting.

Yao grinned, and finally stopped, and Ivan was panting a little bit.

"You're so mean to me."

Yao laughed a little and leaned off him so he could flip back onto his back.

"Are you feeling less awkward now, though? You relaxed a lot."

Begrudgingly, Ivan nodded.

"Can I take your pants off then?"

Ivan, missing the teasing glint in Yao's eyes, bit his lip and nodded seriously.

Yao smiled proudly as he undid the button and unzipped his pants. He slid Ivan's pants and underwear down together, fingers sliding against Ivan's thighs and calves as they went. Ivan felt a shudder of anticipation run through him at that slight intimate touch.

Ivan's pants were thrown on the ground.

Ivan's legs were splayed open—not to be provocative, but rather so that his thighs wouldn't touch Yao's legs because that just seemed too close just yet.

Yao took a moment to survey Ivan's body, over his biceps and his stomach, his big hips and strong thighs. He sighed, and slipped a warm hand over Ivan's hip. The contrast between the cool air and Yao's hand caused Ivan to shiver and readjust his legs.

Yao stopped him, placing his hand on Ivan's knee. Ivan looked up at Yao with a slight pout—probably not intentional—and Yao was overcome with the desire to _touch_ him.

Yao pressed his lips to Ivan's chest, dragging them against the toned muscles there. He rolled his hips forward some and Ivan groaned when his groin rubbed against the rough fabric of Yao's pants.

Ivan brought a clenched fist to his mouth to bite when Yao dragged his hand down his thigh, licking around the edge of a nipple. His hips stuttered forward, and Ivan groaned helplessly, his mouth falling open.

Yao regained his sense of purpose at the sound of Ivan's moan. He detached himself from Ivan's chest and moved away, the only contact he kept was his hand on Ivan's thigh. He took his other thigh and raised it up, hooking it over his hip. He ran his hands up and down both of his thigh, occasionally squeezing and rubbing. Finally, he lifted the second thigh over his shoulder, and smiled at Ivan's little gasp.

There was an ache in Ivan's stomach, a thick fuzzy ache, that felt like he was stuffed full of wool. It was a strange feeling that made him feel dizzy and light, but simultaneously grounded him to the sensations of being touched, the feeling of Yao's skin on his.

Yao looked at Ivan hungrily, his eyes gleaming with lust as he brought his wet, red lips to Ivan's inner knee. He maintained eye contact as his lips glided down Ivan's thigh.

Ivan whimpered as Yao reached the crease of his thigh, mouthing at the soft skin. With hooded eyes, Yao licked along where Ivan's thigh met his groin, Ivan bit his cheek. Ivan slitted his eyes in pleasure.

He wanted to grab Yao's hair and make him _touch_ him, but before he could, Yao was moving to his other thigh, doling out the same attentions.

This time, when he got to the juncture, he lathered his tongue hotly over the skin and Ivan balled his fists into the blankets and let his head fall back with a sigh.

Yao grinned against Ivan's thigh, before moving back to his naval and wrapping his hand around Ivan's cock.

"Look at me, darling," he said, his voice husky.

Ivan keened, chewing his lip as he glanced down at where Yao was crouched between his legs.

Yao stroked him once, and kissed just below his naval.

"Are you ready?" Yao asked from his position, his breath hot on Ivan's flushed skin.

Ivan moaned just a little, squirming his hips, and said, "Uh, yeah, I think so?"

"Babe," Yao said look up at Ivan with a teasing smile, "You've got to be sure on this one."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry. I'm sure."

Yao nodded, leaning up and forward to kiss Ivan as he grabbed for the lube. "One finger, and then the second. I'll give you warnings, and you're ultimately in charge. If you want to stop, I will. If you want me to pause, I will. You just have to tell me."

Ivan nodded. He watched with wide eyes as Yao popped open the tube and poured some onto his fingers.

He set the tube beside Ivan's hip on the bed, and pressed his lips to that same hip as his fingers slid between Ivan's legs. Ivan hissed when Yao's fingers found his entrance, grimacing at the weird feeling as he circled the area, rubbing lube over it.

Ivan took a shaky breath when Yao took his hand away to put even more lube onto his fingers.

"Alright, so my goal is for you to be lax as possible. Take some deep breaths."

Ivan did so, and felt his muscles loosening. Yao nudged his legs wider, and Ivan subconsciously tensed when Yao's fingers trailed back along his thighs. Yao rubbed his nose against Ivan's rib cage, leaning his chest against Ivan's upper thigh and bracing his elbow beside.

"Keep breathing, I'm going to put one in. It'll feel weird," Yao said, pressing his cheek against Ivan's abs.

Gently, a fingertip nudged at his entrance. Ivan couldn't help how he tensed, and Yao paused, letting Ivan assess the sensation.

"Just keep breathing, baby."

Ivan's face felt hot as Yao worked on sliding his finger carefully deeper. Ivan brought an arm over his eyes. He felt Yao's chuckle more than he heard it.

So far, Ivan still didn't understand the appeal of anal sex. It was uncomfortable and not particularly pleasurable. Yao was encouraging him to continue to breathe deeply, and coaxing his legs even wider. Ivan just felt awkward, vulnerably spread out like this. He felt too hot, too exposed.

Yao, frustrated at how obviously distracted Ivan was, spitefully licked a hot strip of Ivan's stomach, drawing his attention back to himself. "I bet you'd loosen up a lot quicker if you stopped thinking so much."

Ivan blushed, glancing out from under his arm. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Shush. When you talk a lot, it means you're still thinking too much. Stop that."

"How am I supposed to stop _thinking_?"

Yao gave him an unimpressed look, his finger still moving inside of him, but considerately less, slowly stroking. "I could _make_ you stop thinking, if you wanted."

That sounded like a dirty promise, and Ivan raised his brow. In just one moment, that unimpressed look became a challenging, lusty glint and Yao was moving down Ivan's body again.

"Ah!" Ivan couldn't help the sounds he made as he watched Yao lick up the length of his cock.

"Got your attention now, have I? This is okay?" Ivan could only nod, too choked up on his own moans as Yao mouth down the side.

Yao was right, he really could make Ivan stop thinking altogether.

Yao grabbed the lube one more time, sliding his finger out and pouring more onto it.

"Aren't you using quite a bit?" Ivan asked with a shaky voice.

Yao shrugged. "I guess so. Why?"

"Isn't it, um, expensive?" he asked, licking his lips and watching Yao rub his fingers together, spreading it around.

Yao smiled and rolled his eyes as he eased the one finger back inside. "You're right. Do you want me to use less? I could use almost none, if you wanted." He said it teasingly, laughing under his breath.

"Well, I was just _saying_ ," Ivan gasped, face turning redder, not necessarily because of Yao's teasing.

Yao kissed his hip, "I know. I'm using a lot to make sure you're comfortable. How are you feeling?"

Ivan scrunched up his nose and shifted his hips. "I don't know."

"Nothing hurts?"

Ivan shook his head.

"It feels like I could add the second finger. What do you think?"

"I think so, too."

"Alright. Bend your knees more, too, please. This will be uncomfortable and it might hurt at first. I'm going to go slow. Tell me how it feels."

Carefully, Yao pressed his second fingers inside, stopping and letting Ivan have time to adjust.

Ivan scrunched his face up in discomfort, exhaled harshly. It was laborious to keep breathing so deeply, but it helped so he forced himself to continue.

It was uncomfortable—it was more than he was ready for. He shut his eyes tightly.

Yao noticed, and ran an encouraging hand down his thigh, saying, "You're doing so well, darling. How are you feeling?"

Even as Yao was talking, Ivan felt part of the burn melting away, slowly. He gulped and continued to swallow big breaths, even as his lungs ached to slow down.

"I'm okay, I think."

Yao nodded, still studying Ivan's face carefully. "I won't move until you tell me to."

Ivan didn't respond, but Yao assumed he heard and agreed. He wouldn't do _anything_ unless Ivan said so. Except kisses.

So, to help Ivan relax further, Yao carefully leaned back onto his knees and over Ivan, and mouthed over Ivan's lips, wetly kissing up his neck. Ivan groaned, whiny, and melted under Yao's mouth.

He writhed against the sheets, lips parted and pink, arching against Yao.

"Mmm, I think," Ivan started breathily, "that you can move now."

Yao smiled against Ivan's neck. "You feel alright? Remember, to tell me otherwise."

"Yeah, I know," Ivan sounded impatient, which made Yao smile even wider.

Yao slowly drew his fingers out and slid them back in, Ivan making breathy little sounds at each movement. He repeated it, and this time he crooked his fingers as he slid them back in.

Ivan gasped loudly and arched his back, and Yao knew he'd found what he was aiming for. Yao tried to hit it again, and when he succeeded Ivan was a breathless mess, clutching at Yao's shoulders and spreading his legs wide.

Yao picked up his speed, and Ivan lost it completely, reaching down to touch himself.

Yao kissed him, stealing the groans and gasps right from his mouth.

Ivan wound his hands through Yao's hair. "Don't pull too hard," Yao warned. He wasn't sure if Ivan even heard him, as he whined and bucked into his own hand.

Yao scissored his fingers, enjoying how Ivan arched and groaned.

Ivan was unable to control how loud he was, muscles spasming and shouts of pleasure flying out of him. His nearing climax was being ripped from him, and making him into quite the show.

Yao's pants were feeling tight by now, just watching Ivan's gratification.

Ivan was close, Yao knew. Yao thrust his fingers in several more times, Ivan desperately stroking himself, before he crooked his fingers once more with alarming precision, eliciting a quiet scream, and Ivan came over his hand and stomach. He was panting, and his face was bright red, his hair slicked to his forehead. Yao surveyed him hungrily, taking in all the details. He was blushed down his neck, his chest, even over his ribcage.

Yao would grab a towel or something to clean Ivan up with. The aftershocks of Ivan's orgasm coursed through him periodically, and his body trembled. Yao kissed his cheek as he pulled his finger out.

"You did so well, darling."

Yao hummed quietly, stilling coming down from his high, and dislodged his hand from Yao's hair, letting his arm fall to the bed.

Yao reached over to his bedside table and grabbed some tissues and cleaned Ivan up.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Yao said, kissing Ivan and stiffly moving off, hissing at how that move rubbed him the wrong way. Ivan already seemed to be falling into a blissful sleep as Yao tried to disentangle their limbs.

Just before he was able to stand, though, Ivan started to sit up and grab at Yao, his arms weighed down with fatigue. "Don't," was all he said.

"I'll be right back," Yao reasoned, shoving at his hands gently.

"No, I want to…" Ivan trailed off sleepily.

"What?" Yao asked, bemused.

"I want to see you."

Yao raised an eyebrow back at Ivan. "What do you mean?"

"Come back, I want _you_."

"You're not being very clear about what you really want." Yao complained, even as he lay back down next to Ivan.

Ivan's hand immediately went to Yao's zipper. Yao made a face when Ivan pulled him out of his pants, biting his lip.

"Show me how," Ivan commanded bluntly.

Taking a shaky breath, Yao nodded and took himself in hand and stroked. Ivan watched intently; apparently his usual shyness was null void now.

Yao was so hard from touching Ivan, and now he was already so close, barely having been touched.

Ivan knocked Yao's hand away after a few more moments of observing. He did his best to imitate that techniques he'd seen Yao using, but with his rough callused hands, it more than made up for any lack of skill. Yao's thighs were shaking within several strokes.

He breathed a little moan—"Tighter, just a little—yeah, god," he clenched his eyes shut and curled his toes and only a moment later he was coming over Yao's hand, arching his back off the bed.

He laid there, mouth ajar, staring at the ceiling for a few moments, enjoying the high. Once his limbs stopped tingling, he reached over for more tissues. He disposed of them and turned back in to Ivan.

He cuddled up close to Ivan's side, Ivan's arms wrapping around him. They fell into a sound sleep.

 


	58. Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan glanced at the nervous boy holding the small brown dog. “How’d you get here though?”   
> Ivan didn’t see it, but Tino was leaning over the counter, grinning, and Angelique hid her smile behind a hand. Sadiq struggled really hard to keep a straight face.

Yao inadvertently woke Ivan up when he moved to stand. It was about eight, Ivan could tell by the sun running in through the window.

Ivan groaned, "Why are you getting up so early?"

"I have work today. Waffles?" he asked, shuffling through his drawers and picking out an outfit.

Ivan grunted in approval. He stretched, his muscles burning pleasantly. He had a really good night's sleep.

"I don't know if Kiku is home yet. Even if he did come home, he might be gone to work by now."

Ivan didn't really pay attention to what Yao was talking about, having just woke up, but he did perk up when he heard Yao sigh. "What?"

"Just, Kiku's job. He's been complaining about it a lot lately. He's been trying to leave but he doesn't know if he'll be able to, and his job might be sent far away."

This was heavy conversation topics for the first thing in the morning.

"He's talking about moving somewhere smaller. He doesn't know if he'll be able to stay downtown Seattle, but you know, if he moves that far away I wouldn't be able to get in to work." He sighed again. "I don't know, it's probably nothing to stress about."

Ivan was sitting up by now, concerned. "That is really…" Yao was sitting, putting on his pants, and Ivan put a hand on his arm. "You know if you need to, you can move in with me."

Yao smiled back at him, "Ah, thank you. But if I was going to do that, I think we'd want to look into a nicer place. I don't want my brother and sister visiting in the neighborhood you live in right now."

Ivan blinked, a bit surprised.

"I mean, if you really wanted to move in together, I think it would be best to find a new place for both of us."

Ivan smiled blankly, mind working to catch up with what Yao was saying.

"Not that, you know, we were thinking about that. But if we did," Yao shrugged, and stood to put his shirt on.

"Come on, waffles."

Ivan groaned and moved out of bed as Yao went out to the hallway. "Wait, where are my pants?" He could just hear Yao laughing.

* * *

Ivan and Lars were scheduled to work two nights later. Ivan was constantly weary of Lars, but since Yao had come in and told him off, he hadn't done anything to arise suspicion. He rarely even spoke to anyone anymore. His sister came and picked him up occasionally, leading some to wonder if his health was deteriorating to the point where he couldn't drive. And if that was the case, why was he still working?

Sadiq worked more often than Ivan or Lars—he paid for the bulk of rent and groceries for himself and Herakles, and he was the senior employee. Lars was working less and less, so Ivan was surprised when they were scheduled together.

Only on Saturdays and busy seasons did Antonio call in all three of his security guards. That's why, on a Monday night, he came in to work and was surprised to find Lars and Sadiq already there.

Confused, Ivan came to stand by Sadiq at the bar. Tino greeted him happily—unusually happy, in fact. Ivan knew Matthias was going to be released from the hospital soon, the doctors predicting it being within a week, regardless if he regained his memory, so he assumed he was just really enthusiastic about that. They were all really glad that his stitches were healing up so well.

"Um, I'm sorry, but I don't think you work tonight, Sadiq," Ivan said apologetically.

It felt like Sadiq froze for a split second before he opened his mouth with some response.

Tino pulled out a work schedule from thin air, loudly placing it down on the bar. "Wow, Ivan, it looks like you're right. What are you doing here, Sadiq?" he asked teasingly, laughing at Sadiq's apparent blunder.

"What?" Sadiq snatched the schedule away from Tino and scanned it. "But Antonio-!"

"Well I guess you can still stick around for a drink."

"I swore someone told me I worked tonight…"

"Hey, it's okay, we know you're getting old," Tino patted Sadiq's arm and set down a shot for him.

Lars sat at a table in the bar, no alcohol and no cigarette in his hands. At one time, when Ivan made eye contact with Lars, it had been friendly. They would at least have conversations, and there would be a sense of recognition in his eyes. Now, it was like Lars looked through everyone.

Ivan was still considering this, Sadiq beside him, still grumbling about having to come in when he didn't have work, when Angelique came in the side door.

She greeted everyone and went to start setting up her DJ booth. However, it appeared that she forgot to shut the door as she came in, because only a moment later a raucous barking and general commotion came from the backroom, and a small brown dog appeared, chased by a young man.

"I'm so sorry! Ah, Lapi, come back here! Lapi!" the boy cried, bent over trying to catch the little dog, which was running around barking at the people standing around.

Ivan had always instinctively feared and hated dogs, so he recoiled and pulled his feet up onto his stool, so the dog couldn't touch him. And with his luck, as the dog ran about the club, now chased by its owner and Sadiq and Angelique, it veered toward Ivan, looking like it was going to jump onto his chair.

Right as the dog was about to jump, the owner lunged and caught the little dog behind the shoulders. He picked the dog up and stood sheepishly, trying to the wrestle the dog into staying in his arms.

He bowed his head a bit to Ivan, who was still shaken by the dog and curled defensively in his seat. "I am so, so sorry," he glanced up slowly, and Ivan couldn't miss the thick European accent. The boy looked up at Ivan's face, and appeared to recognize him. He rushed his apology, stumbling over his words," M-Mr. Braginsky! I-I'm sorry! I was not meaning to lose the control of my dog!"

Ivan surprised, rearranged his seating, trying to restore his dignity. Everyone saw him cower from a purse dog, didn't they?

"It's okay," Ivan assured the quivering boy. "Do I know you?"

Before the kid could stutter through his response, the kid's friend walked in the door and stole Ivan's attention away immediately.

Ivan was stunned, and stood quickly, not even bothering to catch the other boy's name. "Natalya? You're not supposed to be here for another two months, are you?"

Natalya grinned and shook her head, "Surprise!"

Her friend with the dog, who Ivan subconsciously reckoned to be Toris, stepped aside and let Ivan get closer to Natalya, standing to one side.

"How'd you get here?" Ivan asked incredulously.

Natalya shrugged. "Toris' family decided to send us early. What with the tuberculosis outbreak and everything."

Ivan glanced at the nervous boy holding the small brown dog. "How'd you get _here_ though?"

Ivan didn't see it, but Tino was leaning over the counter, grinning, and Angelique hid her smile behind a hand. Sadiq struggled really hard to keep a straight face.

"Toris' uncle picked us up—he lives nearby and is letting me stay with them—and I friend some of your coworkers on Facebook and they helped," she glanced behind Ivan at the bar, "Thanks Tino," she said with a wink.

Ivan was still dumbfounded, disbelieving all of it.

"What, you're not even going to give me a hug, after all I've gone through to get here?" she asked cheekily, still having a thick Russian accent, especially on particular letters.

Ivan rolled his eyes and drew her into a hug.

When Natalya pulled back, she was smiling brightly up at Ivan. "We have to get going. You, Toris and I have to meet Yao in a half hour." Her accent skewed Yao's name nearly beyond recognition.

"What?"

Tino piped in here. "We talked to Antonio and he called Sadiq in to cover for you. That's why Sadiq is here."

"You guys are sweetly conniving, you know."

Tino just grinned, "Like you didn't know. Now get going."

"How will we get there?" Ivan asked, Natalya already leading him out to the side alley.

"My uncle," Toris said, hesitating a tad bit. His English was not nearly as good as Natalya's.

And sure enough, there was a car waiting outside for them.

Toris sat in the passenger's seat, dog in his lap. Ivan and Natalya sat in the back.

"So let me get this more straight. You stalked my Facebook, and added Tino and Yao and whoever else, and set this all up without anyone giving it away?"

Natalya smiled smugly. "Like you would ever have figured it out."

Ivan tried to pay attention to where they were going, but he'd already forgotten some of the turns they'd taken.

"Don't be so smug, you," Ivan warned teasingly.

Toris was glancing back at Natalya and him, and Ivan watched how he looked at Natalya carefully. With how much Toris' family has done for Nataly, Ivan had to wonder what the boy's intentions were toward her.

"So you know school doesn't start for a while. Where were you planning to stay?"

"I'm staying with Toris and his aunt and uncle. They live an hour south of here."

"Oh." Ivan peered at the boy again through the dark car. Sure, nothing funny would happen with Nat and her boys with Kat around back in Russia, but now, Ivan had to be sure to intimidate this kid enough to tonight that it set him straight for the whole summer.

Before long, they were pulling up at a restaurant. Toris thanked his uncle, telling him he'd call him when they were done

Yao was already seated; grinning at Ivan's lost expression as they took their seats. Ivan and Yao shared a smile over the table, Ivan being conscious of how Natalya was scrutinizing them.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Natalya, and Toris," Yao shook hands with them.

Toris and Natalya were seated next to each other, and Ivan and Yao, with Ivan across from Toris and Natalya across from Yao.

"How was your flight?" Ivan asked.

Toris floundered for words momentarily, so Natalya jumped in and provided, "Bumpy and stuffy and there was a baby close to us that wouldn't stop crying."

"Oh. Not so good, then."

"No," Toris shook his head. "Not good."

The rest of dinner was small talk, stunted conversations with Toris, who often didn't understand what they were saying, but nodded and agreed like he did.

Ivan watched him wearily, and he occasionally saw Natalya giving the same treatment to Yao.

Toris called his uncle when they ordered dessert.

"So what degree are you going for?" Yao asked Toris slowly.

Toris thought for a moment," Degree?" Yao nodded. ""I am for business. Grandfather was good businessman in the Union, why my family is in Russia."

Yao nodded and smiled, "Oh, that's nice. What about you, Nataly?"

Natalya shrugged. "I don't know."

The dessert came, and Ivan stared at Natalya incredulously over the arms of the server. "You don't _know_?"

Natalya shrugged, taking her fork and stabbed it through a bit of the mousse and avoiding looking at Ivan.

"I thought you were going for biology or something? What happened to that?"

Natalya shrugged. "At least I'm _going_ to college, right?" she said, trying to belittle Ivan's displeasure.

"It's a lot of money to spend on something you're not sure of," Ivan pointed out, his voice stiff. Toris was glancing between the siblings nervously.

"Calm down," Yao placated authoritatively. "She has time to decide what she wants yet."

Natalya shot Yao an appreciative smile. Toris was wide eyed as he tried to keep up with them.

"I'm just saying it's a lot of money," Ivan huffed.

"Like you know about a 'lot of money'," she scoffed. "The only sum of money you've ever seen was an accident, which barely saved Yekaterina."

Toris put a hand on her arm. He knew that once she became biting, it progressed quickly downhill, faster than she had control of her tongue, and that would definitely not be the best way to end her first visit with her brother.

She took a breath. "Anyway, it looks like we're done. Time to go."

Ivan just stared at her. She stopped before she said anything really cruel about their family and money, but he knew what she would have said. He knew what she was thinking. Ivan knew that she deserved more from life than she was ever given—deserved a rich family with a caring father and a nurturing mother and siblings that were intelligent as she was. What she'd gotten from life so far was a missing father, dead mother, and two siblings who couldn't even figure out how to stay in school.

"Ivan? We're ready to go," Yao tapped his shoulder. Ivan blinked, shook off his haze.

Natalya was standing and gathering her bag, Toris beside her. Yao had already paid for his and Ivan's meals.

"I will see you later, big brother," Natalya said, hugging Ivan outside the restaurant. Ivan nodded. "It was nice to meet you, Yao." Yao smiled and nodded.

And then Toris and Natalya got into their car and were gone.

Yao whistled under his breath as soon as they were out of the parking lot. "She sure is the independent type, isn't she?"

Ivan nodded hollowly, "Always has been."

Yao could tell Ivan was torn over what Natalya had said—and what she hadn't.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Ivan?"

Ivan gave him a side-eye. He looked sad.

"I don't know. Natalya… she deserved more than what Kat and I could do for her growing up."

Ivan's shoulders slumped.

Yao actually didn't know what to say. Ivan wasn't telling much and Yao could tell that there was a lot more going on under the surface. Cautiously, Yao placed a hand on Ivan's shoulder.

"Well, she's here now, going to college and everything. She'll be okay."

Ivan sighed. "She's had to work so hard to get here, though. She and Toris are going to the same place, but I guarantee you she's worked ten times harder than Toris. He never had to lose his parents." Ivan paused. Yao couldn't see his face. "We put so much pressure on her to do well, and she's made it and she doesn't even know what to do now. And—and who are we to make her go to school?"

Ivan looked at Yao, lost.

"We're just forcing her into something she might not even want, you know? We don't know anything, and after all this, she doesn't even know anything either. Yekaterina and I, our whole lives have been just managing to survive. What if, once Natalya sees a life outside of all that, what if she decides to just leave us behind? She could completely start anew; make a whole new life for herself without her baggage from home, with all our rules and restrictions and expectations."

"I doubt someone like her would be bullied into doing something she hated by the likes of you, and I doubt she could ever leave you guys behind. You're family. Beyond just blood relation." Ivan sighed and nodded, but Yao wasn't done. "Look at me," he said, putting a hand on Ivan's jaw. "She'll be okay. Trust her," he kissed Ivan's cheeked, "Trust me."

* * *

"You're Mr. Vainamoinen, I presume?" the nurse stopped him on his way into Matthias' room.

Tino nodded, stopping in his tracks.

The nurse came closer to speak more privately. "You got the doctor's message then, right?"

"Yes," Tino said slowly. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, he's just a little confused still," she said, grabbing a clipboard from the rack outside Matthias' room. "He was able to list off every school he's attended, and he remembers lots of trivial things like that. There are still some holes, however. For example, he can't for the life of him remember his mother's name or what year he was born, though he knows his age."

"Well, math never was his strong spot," Tino joked.

The nurse continued, ignoring Tino's comment. "The doctors predict it will all return within two weeks. We'll be discharging him before that, however, so we'll be depending on you and his other friends do work on his memory with him."

"Yes, of course."

"We'll be giving you more information on that later on. And, one more thing," the nurse looked at Tino imploringly. "He's been complaining nonstop about when 'Lukas' was going to come visit since he's started remembering. Is he going to be joining you?"

"Oh, uh, not today. He's too busy. I'll explain it to him. Thank you, nurse."

She nodded, frowning slightly, "Alright. Well, thank you for visiting him."

Tino smiled and nodded, and left the nurse.

He found Matthias sitting up in bed, looking over the stack of photos that Lukas had left him. When he heard Tino come in, he looked up with an expectant smile, which only faltered a second when he saw that Tino was alone.

"Where's Lukas?"

Tino cringed internally and sat down. "He's busy today."

"Lukas doesn't work afternoons."

Tino shrugged, trying to stay immune to Matthias' sad puppy dog eyes. "You know Emil just got out of school. They're probably off doing something together."

Matthias looked disappointed and dissatisfied with Tino's explanation. "Oh."

"I don't know if it makes up for anything," Tino said, reaching into his bag, "But I did bring you some licorice."

Matthias smiled and took the baggy. "Thanks." He opened it and ate a little piece. He still looked upset.

"What's wrong?" Tino asked. Sure, Matthias got really upset sometimes, but candy usually made it better.

"Oh, it's nothing," Matthias shrugged it off, looking back at the photo in his other hand. "How many times did you visit me?"

"Oh, I don't know?" Tino fiddled with a snag in his jean leg. "I can't keep track. I visited almost every day."

"What about Lukas? Did he come with you every day?" I can't remember after the… thing happened. Just vaguely remember you and Berwald a couple times."

Tino's smile froze. "Well, you know how he's got his hands full with Emil and his Mom," Tino trailed off.

"Yeah, of course," Matthias mumbled, nodding. "He's been distant, don't you think?" Matthias looked back up at Tino, and he could tell this was something Matthias had been thinking over for a while. "Just, I've been remembering, you know?" Matthias shook his head, smiling again.

"I'm not sure what you're saying," Tino said, trying to coax Matthias into elaborating

Matthias shrugged. "He's just distant, is all. I mean," he picked at his finger nails absently, "he's my best friend, you know? Why isn't he here?"

Tino didn't know how to respond. Matthias physically looked a lot better, but seeing his happy-go-lucky friend so unhappy was almost just as bad. "You know it doesn't me he doesn't care."

"I know, I know," his jaw tensed. "But it feels like it."

"Matt, Luke's been tearing himself up over this."

The hand he'd been messing around with clenched into a fist, wrinkling the photo slightly. "He's such an idiot! And he's been drinking because this, too, huh? Probably. He's such an idiot. It's like-," he cut himself off from that train of thought, grumbling under his breath instead.

"It's like what?" Tino asked. "He thought you were going to die, or never remember him," Tino explained, making Matthias look back at him. "He was scared."

Matthias sighed. "The thing is, he's always scared. He covers it up, but he always is—scared of Emil growing up, or his Mom's condition getting worse, or of him being replaced—that's why he didn't like you at first. But the real kicker is that he acts like he doesn't have anyone to help him. He acts like he's all alone and has to take care of everything himself. I mean, I would help him with anything! I'd do anything for Lukas. He's such an idiot, he doesn't even realize that I-," he cut himself off again. He took a deep breath and forced a smile, but his jaw was still tense.

"That you what?" Tino prodded.

"Nothing."

"Matt…"

"I said, nothing."

"You've said a lot already," he pried. "Might as well finish it."

Matthias sighed even deeper. "That I would help him."

"That's not what you were going to say."

"Yeah it is."

Tino gave Matthias a long suffering look, and Matthias took another long breath. "Tino, you can keep a secret?"

Tino didn't hesitate before saying, "Of course," and scooting forward.

"I'm," Matthias hesitated. "I _love_ Lukas."

Tino tried to keep his face neutral and understanding. He'd already put that together, honestly, but it wouldn't' be supportive of him to say 'no duh'.

"It sucks so much because, you know, I want to take care of him and his family and everything but even when I offer as a friend he just brushes me off," he sighed heavily. "Really, it doesn't even feel like he wants to be my friend anymore."

Tino couldn't let Matthias wallow in this line of thought " have you ever felt like he ever returned your feelings? Like, you two kiss a lot for being 'just friends', right?"

"I totally thought he was into me, but—"

"Why didn't you make a move when you thought that, then?"

Matthias balked, "Do you not remember how much I flirt with Lukas? If I dropped any more hints to him, I'd trip over them."

"Yeah, but that's all jokingly. Why didn't you ask him out before?"

Matthias shrugged, "I figured I would wait until he said something."

 _Oh god,_ Tino thought. _They're both killing themselves over mixed signals._


	59. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Our wedding colors are absolutely not going to be yellow and red."
> 
> "Lovi, please look at these photos! It's so fun!"
> 
> "What are we going to serve for dinner? Hot dogs? It's already looks like a fucking condiments table."
> 
> "Okay, stop," Bella said finally. "I see why you asked for me to help you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so college starts on Monday and i have no idea what that means in regards to writing. Because apparently when i have school i write more regularly than when i don't? but this is my first quarter of college classes so we'll see.
> 
> and i swear to god i know exactly where this story is going remember when i said like ten chapters back that it'll seem off topic
> 
> yea this has seemed p off topic but WAIT FOR IT. JUST FUCKING WAIT FOR IT
> 
> please review

Bella joined Antonio and Lovino for a brunch at a nice restaurant. They sat on the balcony, leaning over a round glass table comparing pictures.

"Our wedding colors are absolutely not going to be yellow and red."

"Lovi, please look at these photos! It's so fun!"

"What are we going to serve for dinner? Hot dogs? It's already looks like a fucking condiments table."

"Okay, stop," Bella said finally. "I see why you asked for me to help you."

Lovi huffed sullenly, "We wouldn't need your help if Toni would stop being an idiot."

"You never contribute any ideas, Lovi, that's unfair."

"Stop, stop. I brought color palettes; please stop trying to think of your own color combinations." Antonio raised his hand as if to protest, but Bella cut him off, "Yes, I know, you love red and yellow. It's not going to fly."

She spread out pages from magazines she's cut out on the table in front of them.

"I did some research on the popular color schemes this summer. They're all really vibrant and fun. What do you think?"

Antonio picked up one with bright pink and black. "This is nice. What do you think Lovino?"

"Why don't we just tattoo 'gay' on our foreheads and call it good."

"Stop being so grouchy."

Lovino rolled his eyes and surveyed the colors. "Why are they all so bright? Shouldn't they more be like 'this is the end of my life'?"

Antonio scoffed and smacked his arm.

"You want it more muted? I have some of those. These are more traditional or vintage." She spread more out, shuffling the first ones back into a stack.

"I like this one," he said finally. It was a dark red with silver and some light pastel highlights.

"Oh that would match our ties, too."

"You picked out your ties before the color theme? Why didn't you tell me that?" Bella exclaimed. "Show me pictures. You can't have matching ties that don't match the themes."

Antonio laughed and took out his phone, showing Bella the photo he'd taken of himself trying on the tux. "Lovino has the same tie." It was simple black and white save the tie, which (thankfully) matched well with the palette that Lovino picked up.

"Thank god. You really like that color, don't you Lovino?"

Lovino shrugged. "I know what colors look good on me."

Antonio and Bella laughed.

Having settled that, they ate their meal in companionable small talk. Lovino excused himself to the bathroom shortly after they all finished and Antonio called for the check.

"Lars worked last night you know," Antonio started the moment Lovino cleared the balcony.

"As usual. He works most nights, right?"

"He came into my office after hours," Antonio pressed.

Bella tilted her head, frowning. "What happened?"

"Well, he resigned."

"What?" Bella was obviously taken aback. "Why?"

"He wouldn't give a specific reason. Is he starting treatment or something?" Antonio was concerned.

"Antonio, he started chemotherapy a month and a half ago." She looked out over the balcony.

"I hadn't realized."

Bella shook her head. "He goes in for treatment every three weeks or so. He didn't tell me until his second treatment." She shook her head, rubbing her forehead and smiling sideward at Antonio. "It's taking a lot out of him. It's about time he stopped working."

"But what about his shop?"

"A friend's helping him out."

"Well, if he's taking chemo that means he's going to be getting better, right?"

Bella shrugged, smiling sadly. "I don't know."

Antonio leaned in, reaching a hand out to her shoulder. "He's going to be fine," he said with a smile.

She looked up, looking him in the eye, "Antonio, I'm not quite as confident as you."

* * *

"He's being released next week. They want to do more work on him, see if anything's going to be permanently damaged. Most of the stitches are being removed within the next few days," Tino said over the phone.

"Alright, thank you," he responded blandly.

"Now, you listen to me here," Tino said, voice getting hushed—he was still at the hospital. "You're going to come visit him, Lukas. He really wants to see you."

"I don't-."

"Don't give me any stupid excuses. You're going to be there when he's released, too."

Lukas was quiet on the other end. "Okay."

"I'm going to go, now. You can call me later, if you want."

"Good bye."

Lukas sat in his dining room. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

Emil waited on the stairs. He knew Matthias was getting better, and he knew that Lukas wasn't feeling any better despite this. He heard Lukas hang up, presumably with Tino, and waited for the hiss of the bottle he knew Lukas would be opening. He waited a moment longer, till he figured Lukas was sitting again, before shuffling the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Hey, Luke, I'm going out for the afternoon. I've got my phone if you need anything."

"Are you visiting that Lone?" he called back, irritated.

"I  _have_ other friends, you know," Emil scoffed. "I'm taking the bus, too. My car's out of gas."

"Fine."

Emily left. The bus stop was two blocks over from their house, and he walked there quickly.

He recognized some kids from school on the bus, and hoped they got off before his stop.

Fortunately, they did get off soon after Emil recognized them, and Emil could rest easier. No one would question why he was going so far away from home.

He pulled out his phone to keep his hands busy; checking the street address of his destination one more time, though he knew he'd triple checked it before he left the house.

He stopped being able to recognize the neighborhood a few stops before it was time to get off. He peered at the street signs, and had to walk two blocks to the Safeway that was mentioned in the text.

On the far side of the Safeway, Emil found an alley leading to the back, just like he'd been told.

He checked his watch. He got there just in time.

"Hey kid," someone called to him, leaning against the wall. "You Emil?" He was older, at least thirty, wearing a Safeway employee nametag that read 'Jay'. He was smoking a cigarette.

Emil nodded.

"Twenty bucks."

Emil's hands were unsteady as he pulled out the bills form his wallet. He felt a pang of guilt having taken some of this money from Lukas behind his back, but swallowed it down and handed it to Jay.

"Here ya go, man. You need a light?"

Emil nodded, taking the pack from Jay. He pried it open and took out one of the sticks, holding it still for Jay as he lit it up.

"Now you keep this shit secret. If you get caught, you don't know me. I'd be fucked if this is what I get it for. Kay, kid?"

Emil nodded.

Jay put out his cigarette against the stone wall, wordlessly going back in the back door and back to work.

Emil took a drag off the cigarette. This wasn't his first one, but it still burned enough to make his eye water a bit.

His throat burned at the second or third drag. On the fourth, he leaned his shoulder against the wall. Soon he was closing his eyes. He felt peaceful, even in this dirty alley behind a grocery store.

He felt himself relaxing, stressful thoughts slipping form his mind. What did it matter to him what Lukas was thinking of feeling or doing? As much, apparently, as what Emil was doing meant to Lukas.

He smoked until he had only the butt left, and dropped it on to the ground, stepping on it.

He went around to the front of the store and went inside to the bathroom. He pulled out a change of clothes and switched them out of the smoky clothes quickly, shoving them into his bag. He pulled out a baggy with a travel toothbrush and toothpaste.

He was pretty sure all of this should cover him long enough, until he could get into the shower at home.

* * *

Yao called Ivan at six. "Do you have work tonight?"

"No." Ivan sighed. "What do you want to do?"

"Movie night!"

Ivan smiled and rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath. "Your place or mine?"

"I have cookies in the oven. You come here."

Ivan rolled his eyes against. "Okay, okay, I'll be coming right over."

It was pretty late to be catching a bus, but Ivan changed into sweat pants and managed to grab the very last one going up to China Town.

Yao pulled open the door, a smile on his face and a cookie in his, which he pressed into Ivan's hand promptly, giving him a hug.

"I found some Russian movies on Netflix; you can go choose one. Are you hungry?"

Ivan shook his head. Yao motioned for him to go to the living room, where his laptop was hooked up to the TV, and on the screen there was a list of movies, transliterated titles from Russian.

He recognized quite a few of them, mostly cartoons. Many of the live action movies were horrors, which Ivan didn't have a stomach for, so he chose a cartoon.

Yao came in with a plate of cookies, which he put on the coffee table.

"That looks like a cute cartoon," he commented.

"Yeah! Sit down and let's watch."

Yao snuggled up to his side, his usual place, and Ivan put his arm over Yao's shoulders.

"It's subtitled, too. I couldn't find a dubbed version, sorry."

Yao shrugged. "That's fine," he said with a little yawn.

This cartoon was actually one of the few that Ivan had seen growing up, so it was a nice surprise to have found it in the Netflix listings.

It was an old movie, so it had a long intro with all the credits. The animation quality was more lacking than Ivan remembered, but he was still just as excited to see it all again, and for Yao to watch it too.

It was the story of a hag who used magic to disguise herself as a beautiful young woman. She falls in love with a prince, but on their wedding night, a problem in the spell reveals her true form, and the prince is appalled and curses her existence, leaving her to rot in misery.

Maybe Ivan should have warned Yao that this wasn't as cute and fun as the ones Yao had shown him.

Halfway through the movie, Ivan glanced at Yao to make sure he was following the dialogue, to find his eyes shut.

_He fell asleep_.

Although he was a little disappointed that Yao hadn't been watching with him—when had he fallen asleep, anyway?—he didn't have the heart to wake him up.

Ivan watched the rest of the movie in silence before nudging Yao gently awake.

"Mmm?" he hummed against Ivan's collarbone.

"You feel asleep during the movie."

"Oh," he blinked, rolling his shoulders and yawning, "I'm sorry." He sounded completely unapologetic and very sleepy.

"Are we going to bed then?"

Yao just nodded, leaning away from Ivan and stretching.

They brushed their teeth, Yao moving very lethargically, and went to bed.

Ivan laid out on his back, arm out for Yao to settle up next to him. Yao curled his own arm over Ivan's chest, other one under Ivan's outstretched arm. His face was nearly nuzzling into Ivan's neck, but still at enough of a distance that Ivan could look down at kiss him on the cheek. Yao peeped one eye open in a squint, and kissed Ivan on the jaw.

"I—." Ivan stopped himself. He hadn't consciously thought to say anything.

"Hm?" Yao asked.

"Nothing," Ivan passed it off.

"Okay," Yao shrugged, snuggling a bit closer and sighing. "Night."

"Night."

Yao's breathing evened out quickly, and he was out like a light. Ivan, however, furrowed his brow at the ceiling.

Had he unconsciously been about to say 'I love you?'

 


	60. It'll Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went into his living room, and there were paints poured onto a palette, but the canvas on the easel was blank.
> 
> "Were you painting?" Bella asked softly.
> 
> Lars gave Bella a questioning look, before glancing at the easel. "I forgot I set that up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i hope u guys realize i started this fic when i was 15 and im about to turn 17. im not giving up on this.
> 
> although im now officially in college so who knows how often i'll be updating...

I love Yao.

I'm in love with Yao.

I'm _in love_ with Yao.

I'm in _love._

Ivan's heart beat against his rib cage, aching.

He was hyperaware of Yao, how close he was, and how Ivan wanted to pull him even closer. He wished he hadn't let him fall asleep, so he could kiss him. The idea of sleepy kisses with Yao made his heart ache even more. His arm tightened fractionally around Yao's back.

Ivan wanted to wake him up, to tell him, say, "Yao, I love you," and kiss him. There was an adrenaline from his revelation that increased this urge, but he suppressed it. It wouldn't be nice to wake Yao up when he was so tired.

And, what was Ivan expecting Yao to say?

God, and what had Yao said that he did before, when one of his 'friends' admitted feelings for him? He dumped him.

Ivan felt his blood turn cold. Yao wouldn't do that to him, would he?

Ivan shook it off; Yao wouldn't do that to Ivan. He was too, overwhelmed? ecstatic? about his epiphany to be pulled down by the 'what if' questions.

Ivan glanced at the silhouette of Yao's face, somewhat illuminated in the light from the streetlamp pouring in from the window. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Yao's forehead.

_I love this man._

* * *

Kiku woke up in the middle of the night, too hot between his two bedmates, to the sound of Sadiq snoring.

He had his head rested on Sadiq's chest, arm wrapped around his torso, with Herakles spooning up behind him. Kiku readjusted himself a little, annoyed by how loud Sadiq's snoring was. Herakles sighed against Kiku's ear, scooting closer to Kiku's back and nuzzling into his neck.

"You're awake too?" Herakles asked.

Kiku nodded.

"Poke him awake."

"That's rude, though,"

"I want to sleep."

Kiku sighed. He poked Sadiq's stomach gently, and when that had no effect he tried a little harder.

Sadiq hummed. "Wha?"

"You were snoring," Herakles said sharply.

Sadiq just grunted and turned over, facing Kiku and promptly fell back asleep. Kiku laid his head on his bicep. Herakles put his hand on his hip, rubbing in small circles. "Sometimes Sadiq talks in his sleep, too," he whispered, chuckling under his breath.

"Oh, thank god, that explains a lot," Kiku replied. The other night he'd heard talking and had been really concerned, but forgot to mention it to anyone. Herakles just chuckled.

Herakles yawned, "I'm visiting my Mom tomorrow."

"Is Sadiq coming with?"

Herakles scoffed against the skin behind Kiku's ear. "Sadiq's never met her. Do you want to?"

Kiku was taken aback, or as taken aback as he could be, having been woken up in the middle of the night as he was.

"Is that okay for me to meet her before Sadiq?"

Herakles scoffed again, "Sadiq's never going to meet her, so why not?"

"Why isn't he going to?"

Herakles shrugged. "We're Greek, he's Turkish," he said, and left it at that.

"That's like my parents."

Herakles shrugged. "It wouldn't be good."

"I still don't know if I want to go without Sadiq."

"That's okay then. Good night." He yawned again, rubbing his foot against Kiku's briefly before stilling, presumably falling asleep.

* * *

Bella worked late on Thursdays. She got home a little after eleven, and found her voice machine blinking.

She clicked the button and the message played.

' _Hi Bella, its Lars. I'm calling because'_

He paused. His voice sounded frail, feeble. Bella sat at her kitchen table.

' _Can you come over? I'm just,'_

He took a ragged breath.

' _God I feel like I'm falling apart. I love you._ '

The message ended. The message was from an hour or two ago.

Bella grabbed a fruit, having not eaten dinner yet, and went back to her car.

She was on Lars' front doorstep twenty minutes later. She knocked loudly.

Lars answered after a long while, his eyes sunken and his eyelids visibly drooping.

"I hope you weren't sleeping, I was at work when you called."

Lars stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I can't… sleep."

Bella frowned deeply, her brows furrowed in concern. "Let me come in," she said, sliding by him and closing the door behind her. "Are you hungry?"

"Don't make anything."

"Why not?"

He just took another moment to shake his head again. He went into his living room, and there were paints poured onto a palette, but the canvas on the easel was blank.

"Were you painting?" Bella asked softly.

Lars gave Bella a questioning look, before glancing at the easel. "I forgot I set that up."

Lars sat on the couch heavily. Bella sat beside him. She placed her hand on his arm. He sat, staring blankly at the ground. She could see his hand twitching, could feel the tenseness of his body.

"Come here," she finally said, tugging his arm toward her. Surprisingly, he allowed her to pull him in to a hug. He went with it limply, and when she put her arms around him she was surprised, appalled even, to find how hollow and small his frame was.

"You haven't been eating, have you?" she asked softly, breaking from the hug after a moment and looking Lars up and down. Lars made a face and shrugged. "You need to eat so you have enough strength for therapy."

"I throw up most of what I eat."

"You should have told me this. I'm here to help you. I'm going to make a light dinner for you, okay?"

"No, I'm too nauseous to eat."

"Oh, brother you need to eat something."

Lars frowned, but instead of the usual disdain or apathy in this expression, it was a pained, child-like insolence.

"Lars…"

Lars shook his head. His facial expression melted into something more desperate, quietly letting go of his cool mask. His attention slipped from Bella, and he stared at the easel. Bella had the urge to make him look at her again, but refrained from doing anything but tighten her grip on his shoulders.

"You're going to be okay, Lars."

Lars didn't look at her, didn't react physically except to shake his head, almost too incrementally for Bella to see the movement.

"No, you're going to recover, okay? You have a few more treatments and then you're going to be okay." Bella sounded almost pleading to her own ears.

He looked pained by the words. "I can't."

Bella didn't want to hear this. "What do you mean you can't?" There was a hysterical tinge to her voice.

It didn't even seem like Lars heard her, staring, unmoving.

"Lars, I'm not going to let you give up. You idiot. You can't give up when Antonio is counting on you to be his best man."

Lars looked at her, drained and dreary. "I don't want any more treatments." His voice was soft, and broke a little. "They," Lars paused, studying his own hand, "they hurt too much. I don't want to go back."

"Lars, you've been trying to go through this all by yourself, and you don't have to!" Bella tried to explain, attempting to hide the anger in her voice.

Lars clenched his fists, and Bella braced for an angry reaction, and was completely caught off guard when Lars suddenly leaned his head on her shoulder.

"It's not worth it." He muttered it into her shoulder. She was speechless. She wanted to push him back and tell him how wrong he is, how much it was worth for him to pull through. But she couldn't do that.

Lars took a ragged breath. "God, I'm _so_ hungry. My head hurts and my hand's been twitching. My whole body hurts."

Bella shushed him, and took the fabric of his beanie in her hand and pulled it off. She carefully traced her hand over the slope of his skull. His breathing was ragged, forced.

"Go lie down. I'm going to make you soup, and you'll eat it as slowly as you like, and I'll stay here tonight. I'll stay with you as long as you want me to."

Lars nodded.

* * *

Tino was on his back, hand over his mouth instinctually, even if he wasn't make sound. Berwald knelt between his thighs, arms braced on either side of his head, face pressed against his neck. Tino rested his hand on the back of Berwald's head. It was what he always did when they were doing this.

Tino wasn't really feeling it tonight, though. He looked at the ceiling, occasionally moaning a little when Berwald hit a particular spot.

Berwald nipped his way up Tino's neck, from the base to right behind his ear, and then retraced his path with gentle kisses. Then he moved his lips right over Tino's ear.

"What ya thinkin' 'bout?"

"Wh-what? I'm not thinking about anything!" Tino sputtered, surprised at being called out. He could feel Berwald raising his eyebrow at him. "Well, alright," Tino started, sighing. Berwald seemed to physically sigh, his body language somewhat exasperated as he rolled off of Tino, lying beside him instead.

"Alright, tell me."

"I really shouldn't…" Tino bit his lip, furrowing his brow in concern. He'd been really concerned over how both Matthias and Lukas had admitted their feelings about each other to Tino, but Tino was under obligation not to tell the other about the confessions. Berwald rolled his eyes. "Okay you have to promise not to tell anyone ever, because otherwise I might be killed."

Berwald, nonplussed by this conversation to begin with, just rolled his eyes and nodded.

"No I need your verbal acknowledgement that I'm putting my fate in your hands."

"I won't tell."

"Okay so Lukas—"

"You were thinking about Lukas and Matthias when we were kissing." It wasn't a question, and it there was definitely no question as to whether Berwald was unimpressed.

"Okay it's not about that please. Lukas told me a couple weeks ago that he's in love with Matthias, but he was unsure of whether Matthias reciprocated it, so he never said anything. And then yesterday, Matthias tells me that _he's_ in love with Lukas, but thought Lukas would make the first move. So like, I'm sort of unsure of whether-."

"Don't get into it, they'll figure it out."

"Okay but it's been four years since the feelings have been mutual and nothing's happened."

Berwald shrugged.

"But isn't that so difficult? Like they could've been together for _four years_ how is that even _possible_?"

"We were lucky."

Tino scoffed at that. "Well, yeah, but it's just so hard because I feel like I need to intervene and make sure they understand that they belong together and-."

"Tino, ya don't need to fix everything. Just wait and watch, I guarantee you that it'll resolve itself eventually."

Tino frowned, but he had to admit that Berwald was making sense. "Fine. We can go back to what we were doing, then."

Berwald yawned. "No, I think I'm too tired. Good night." He leaned over and kissed Tino's forehead.

"Oh. Okay then. Good night."


	61. Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to sit in the wheel chair!" Tino heard him pouting at the nurse. The nurse smiled, forcibly pleasant.
> 
> Tino expected to hear Lukas make a snide remark, like 'shut up, idiot' or something equally scything. When Lukas was silent, Tino was so surprised it sent a jolt through him.
> 
> "Hey buddy! You've been busy lately, huh?" Matthias' face lit up when he saw Lukas.
> 
> Lukas shrunk form the question initially, then nodded.

Ludwig worked from seven to four in the afternoon.

Feliciano's times varied a lot, but Ludwig would always pick him up. If Feliciano worked late, then Ludwig would work out in the gym in the mean time. If he got off early, Feliciano would walk to his accounting firm. It was two miles away, but he'd somehow made friends with lots of small business owners en route, especially the ones who owned cats. Ludwig ended up picking him up from these shops more often than not, several hours after Feli finished work.

Today, Feliciano was in a flower shop chatting with the owner's young daughter and petting their cat. Ludwig parked on the side of the road and came in. Knowing Feliciano, he'd make friends with her and feel obligated to buy something, even though he had no money.

"Ah, hiya Ludwig! This is my boyfriend, Ludwig meet Kailey. Kailey is Mrs. Strauss' daughter!"

Ludwig nodded awkwardly, shaking her hand obligatorily.

"Apparently Kailey is doing the flowers for big brother's wedding! Grandpa already came by and set it up. Isn't that nice?"

Kailey smiled shyly.

"That's nice." Feliciano was a hundred times more outgoing than Ludwig.

"Alright, well, I'll see you around Kailey! Ciao, bella!"

Feliciano and Ludwig left, Feliciano waving enthusiastically. Ludwig was parallel parked on the street, and Feliciano jumped into his car happily. "So where do you want to go now? It's so nice out; we should go to a park! Or I can make us pasta at home! I have some sauce left from the other day. You've had my great grandma's recipe, right?"

Ludwig was on autopilot as he started driving to Feliciano's apartment.

"So, Ludwig, I was meaning to ask before- not that it wasn't already assumed- but you're going to be my date to Lovino's wedding, right?"

Ludwig raised his eyebrow at Feliciano. "Of course?"

"Oh good. We're going to have to get matching ties. I'm going to be Lovino's best man, probably so during the reception we'll be up front and there'll be pictures. And we can't match Toni or Lovi, so we're going to have to coordinate with them. But it really does need to match the décor, too. It might be difficult, but there are some nice pastel colors that Bella showed me that they're going to use for accents and I think that they would be really nice ties. We also need to coordinate our jackets! Maybe we can go shopping sometime-"

"You're rambling, Feli."

Feliciano froze, his hands midair, before putting them on his lap. "Sorry." He sighed.

"What's bothering you?"

Feliciano sighed. "Grandpa told me that Toni's mother sent invites to our whole family. Including our Mother."

Ludwig waited for an elaboration. Ludwig had assumed that their parents passed away or something, and that was why they were in their Grandpa's custody.

"Lovino's a lot like Mamma, but she's really cold. As far as I remember, she is. And she's really mean and no one really likes her, but when Grandpa left Italy she became like the matriarch and she's really scary."

Ludwig hummed thoughtfully. Feliciano never ever brought up his parents before, in all the time they'd known each other. He really didn't know anything about this mother of his and didn't know what to say.

"I was thinking, what if, if Mamma started getting nasty, we had some kind of plan of action? Like I don't know, we could have a secret code and a fish net to catch her in or something."

Ludwig smiled. "I'm sure we could figure out something like that."

* * *

Berwald and Tino arrived at the hospital a good ten minutes before Lukas and Emil. Peter had to come with for lack of a baby sitter. Tino began going about caregiver papers, though he really didn't think that Matthias would let him take care of him once he got home.

It was early afternoon, and they'd gotten Peter out of school a half hour early so he could come. He really liked Matthias, so he wanted to be here for when he got out. Plus, he had a suspicion that they would get ice cream afterward.

Emil was dragged along, and wasn't really sure why. He grumbled and sulked as he and Lukas shuffled into the waiting room. He glanced at Lukas sullenly every so often, and went to sit by Berwald and Peter.

"Matthias has to be taken to the car in a wheelchair. We can't allow him to walk just yet, and he will have crutches for home and walking around. Do you understand?" The lady at the desk told Tino sternly. Lukas stood behind Tino, peering over his shoulder at the paperwork. "He is not to operate heavy machinery, and may have trouble with heavier food. He should not move excessively. Try to keep him still. Even here at the hospital we've had trouble with this, so please do your best; he can't heal if he bothers his wounds."

Tino nodded. "Of course, that makes sense."

"The nurse will go and bring him here for you now." She turned away quickly and called for a nurse.

Tino looked back at Lukas and smiled. Lukas looked pale and tired, and his eyes were larger than usual—did he lose some weight, or was he just worried about Matthias?

"You're taking him home right?" Lukas asked. He seemed antsy; the only thing Tino could compare it too was that time when Matthias was throwing a party and a ton of people Lukas didn't know were invited.

"Um," Tino didn't really want to answer that immediately—he'd been expecting an opportunity to force Matthias off to Lukas. He was relieved when the doors parted at that precise moment and Matthias was wheeled through.

"I don't want to sit in the wheel chair!" Tino heard him pouting at the nurse. The nurse smiled, forcibly pleasant.

Tino expected to hear Lukas make a snide remark, like 'shut up, idiot' or something equally scything. When Lukas was silent, Tino was so surprised it sent a jolt through him.

"Hey buddy! You've been busy lately, huh?" Matthias' face lit up when he saw Lukas.

Lukas shrunk form the question initially, then nodded.

"Let's get you going, then," Tino said, going behind Matthias' wheelchair.

Matthias still had a few stitches holding his forehead closed, and even more scars. His arm was in a sling, and his torso seemed thicker—there was still heavy bandaging. Despite all of this, though, Matthias' wide smile was still in place, grinning up at the other two.

Emil and Berwald stood, Peter in Ewald's arms, and came to greet Matthias.

"Oh, you know Lukas I just remembered: there's a PTA meeting at Peter's school tonight," Tino started, looking at Emil out of the corner of his eye conspiratorially, "and we'd talked to Emil about babysitting Peter. It starts in an hour so we wouldn't possibly have time to drop Matthias off! Plus, with Emil we'd have no space for Matthias! Do you think you could bring him home?"

Lukas looked panicked, but when Matthias looked at him, he made his face blank. "You have a five passenger car."

"I doubt Matthias would be comfortable with his sling stuck in the back seat with the boys," Tino countered.

"I don't have time to pull errands, you have to take him."

"I can come home with you! I don't want your mom to be worried about me!" Matthias grinned. "Then Emil can give me a ride home later."

"You've been in a hospital for weeks, I don't want Mom getting sick, idiot."

"I'll owe you one if you do this. Please?" Tino asked. Lukas glared at him.

"Fine. Fine, whatever," he ceded, sighing long sufferingly. "What does it matter to me? Help me get him into the car."

"I can walk! Come on, don't talk about me like I'm not here." Matthias whined. Lukas rolled his eyes.

* * *

Lovino was making pasta. He stirred the boiling water, cursing as it stuck to the pan. He'd thought he'd added enough salt to prevent that…

Antonio tutted when he came in, finding an irritated Lovino in an apron, and slid his arms around his hips, taking the wooden spoon and stirring for him. "What's the matter?" he muttered against the soft flesh of Lovino's neck.

"Where've you been all day, bastard?" he asked snappily, aggravated at the state of his pasta and unintentionally taking it out on Antonio.

Antonio hummed. "Visiting family."

"Yeah? What's new, why'd you take so long?"

Antonio hummed louder, "Mama's really worried about Lars. She really wants to move the wedding up a few weeks."

"What! No, we're not changing the date for that bastard—!"

"I said she _wants_ to, Lovi! Calm down," he said, pressing a kiss to Lovi's shoulder. "I told her that she couldn't change a thing without you and me talking it out."

"I don't want to change it because of him. End of conversation."

Antonio sighed. "We'll talk later. Mama also told me who she all invited from our side of the family. She _really_ wants everyone to come."

Lovino scoffed, "She invited my mother, I already heard."

"Sebastien is coming too." Antonio pressed his forehead against Lovino's shoulder. "I wish she asked me before doing that."

"Oh yeah I totally remember who Sebastien is."

"My cousin?" Antonio said, still pressed against Lovino's shoulder.

Lovino paused, annoyed that Antonio didn't elaborate. "Oh, the one Bella's father kept custody of."

Antonio nodded against his shoulder. "She thinks it'll be good for Lars, but I really doubt it."

Lovino shrugged. "Your Mama has been making some questionable choices, I think," Lovino said cuttingly.

Antonio took a deep sigh. "I think you're right. Bella backed her up on inviting Sebastien though."

Lovino rolled a sigh off the back of his throat, irritated. "It's our wedding, I really don't give a shit about what Bella or Lars or my mother or anyone else thinks. I'm going to be fucking _pissed_ if anyone ruins it."

Antonio smiled. He hadn't heard Lovino refer to it as _their_ wedding before.

* * *

Lukas was silent as he drove them home. Matthias drummed the fingers of his good hand on the door.

"So how's Emil been? Kid keeping up in school?"

"They're out of school now."

Matthias was shocked. "Damn," he said. "Then how's he doing with that boy?"

"Fine," Lukas said, clipped. It fell back to a thick silence.

It started raining before they go to the highway entrance.

Lukas was hesitating mentally. This could be his chance to tell Matthias his feelings. But he was too nervous of the potential consequences—Matthias wasn't the kind of friend Lukas could go with losing.

He felt Matthias' eyes on him and became paranoid. Did Matthias know something? Had it really been wise to open up to Tino, who was known as the gossip of every one of his friend groups? He kicked himself for being gullible; of course he shouldn't have told Tino. Now Matthias probably knew and was considering how to tell him he was uncomfortable with being friends with him anymore. He should've told Tino to shove it, he wasn't taking Matthias home.

"Hey Lukas?" Matthias tried after a few moments.

"Hm."

He faltered before continuing. "I think we need to talk about something."

Lukas didn't say anything. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Yeah?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. Here it comes.

"Do you not like me anymore?" he asked meekly.

"What?" Lukas asked, his voice suddenly harsh. Matthias raised his eyebrows.

"Well you never visited me in the hospital. I thought it was kind of weird, you know?"

"Hm. Sorry. I was busy."

"I was told."

"Oh? Who told you? Tino? He tell you much else?"

"Whoa, whoa I didn't mean for you to get on the offense. What's wrong?"

Lukas shoulders stiffened. "Nothing." Suddenly, he turned sharply into a gas station. Matthias hadn't even noticed exiting from the highway. "I need to get something to eat." He parked quickly and swung his door open. Matthias moved to followed, trying to open his door, but Lukas clicked the auto-lock. "You stay here."

Matthias was prepared to make a face and pout, but Lukas was already gone. Knowing that the alarm would go off if he unlocked it from the inside, Matthias huffed and crawled halfway into the backseat, opening the side compartment and grabbing the spare keys and unlocking the doors.

Lukas grabbed a chocolate bar and a soda that Matthias would probably like. On a second thought, he grabbed a row of mini donuts as well.

When he came back out to the car, he scowled to find Matthias leaning against the driver's side door of the car.

"What, idiot? Get back in the car I don't have time for you to mess around."

"Something's bothering you and I want you to tell me what."

"Why? It doesn't matter to you anyway. Get out of the way," he said, trying to slide Matthias out of the way, but Matthias didn't budge.

"It does matter to me!" Matthias cried, grabbing Lukas' left shoulder with his good hand. "Stop thinking that you don't matter to anyone, or like no one cares about you! I'm your friend, and I care about you a _lot_ , okay?"

Lukas felt his face get hot, and he felt angry, but his head was too clouded to put any of it into words. It felt like there was a growing pressure above his ears, and his head was full of bubble wrap and it was popping in his ears. It hurt his head and it came over him so quickly that he couldn't stop the angry tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

He was embarrassed and looked away from Matthias stubbornly. "Get out of the way," he tried again, but his voice broke on the tail end of it. He looked down angrily.

Matthias bent down, concerned and trying to get a glimpse of Lukas' face. "What's wrong? Hey, come on look at me."

"Do you-," Lukas started, his voice tight. "Do you not get it, idiot?" he asked, pushing Matthias' hand away.

"Come on, tell me. I can't read your damn mind."

One tear streamed down his face, followed by another. Lukas wiped them away angrily, giving himself away in the meantime.

"Lukas, hey, why are you crying?" Matthias all but cooed, taking the hand that Lukas was wiping his tears away with.

Lukas scoffed. "It's cause," he started, then hesitated. He looked up at Matthias, glaring sourly. "It's 'cause I love you," he said harshly.

Matthias raised his eyebrows, utterly caught off guard. "I love you too."

Lukas made an outraged noise, "No, idiot, I _love_ you. Not as buddies or childhood friends or something stupid like that. I…" he looked down. "I'm so stupid. I know you probably don't want to hear this, but it's true, okay? So you can yell at me or call me a fag or something. Just let me get back in the car-."

Lukas stopped short when Matthias just laughed. "You call _me_ idiot? I love you."

Lukas froze, scrutinizing Matthias with his still-watery eyes. His eyes widened at whatever he saw in Matthias face, and his lip started trembling. He looked away again, gasping involuntarily and letting it out in a whimper as he started crying again, harder.

Matthias put his hand on the back of his neck instinctually, pulling him closer. Lukas collapsed against him, hiding his face in Matthias' neck and all but sobbing. Matthias pressed his cheek to his forehead and smiled. Lukas clung to him, his body shaking from his sobs.

"God, I ha-ate you," Lukas managed between shaking gasps.

"What? You were just saying how you loved me," Matthias pouted playfully, running his hand through Lukas' hair.

"We're in pu-ublic and you're making me look stup-pid," Lukas hiccupped quietly.

Matthias laughed.

 


	62. Specifically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N take this 6k chapter as a peace offering for how slowly i've been updating.
> 
> this first scene took a looong time for me to write and i couldn't fit everything i really wanted to into it so sorry.
> 
> please review

_Emil and Leon sort of had sex the other day._

_Emil didn't really know if it qualified as sex but it definitely felt like it and until that point he'd been the major virgin white boy so it was a big deal for him whether or not it was technically sex._

_It was one of his smoke runs to Safeway and he'd taken a different bus home than usual, one that went by Leon's neighborhood, and he'd decided to stop by._

_Leon's mother answered the door, originally not seeing that it was Emil and not one of her Chinese neighbors, greeted him in Cantonese. Then, seeing that he was, in fact, Emil, smiled and called for Leon. "Kha Loung!"_

_Leon came down the stairs, responding in snipped Cantonese until he saw the door was open and Emil was standing there, and his mother went back to the living room without another word. Emil hadn't expected Leon's parents to be here._

" _They're leaving soon," Leon assured him as they went up to his bedroom. Leon had never introduced Emil to his parents at all, mostly because they were so often absent._

_Emil sat on Leon's bed. In retrospect, it seemed to happen a lot faster._

_He'd asked about 'Kha Loung'._

" _That's my Canto name. Only my parents really call me that."_

" _But it's like your original name, right?"_

_Leon shrugged. "I guess you could like, say that. I was given both my names at birth."_

_Emil had considered that and asked if he could call Leon by his Cantonese name—he can't remember even why he wanted to, maybe because he knew so few other people did. It would feel special._

_Leon gave him a long look, one of the looks that he still couldn't decipher. "Yeah. You can call me that." But he didn't stop with the intense stare and Emil fidgeted and his cheeks warmed up._

_His mother called upstairs that they were leaving. Leon—Kha Loung—called back._

_They sat for a moment, Emil remembered, before he asked, "How do you pronounce that name. Kha Lung?"_

_Leon smiled, "L_ oung _, more rounded."_

_Emil tried again._

_Leon shrugged. "You'll get it eventually."_

_Kha Loung was smiling a peculiar smile, and Emil was vaguely reminded of their first kiss—in this very room, when they were studying for an exam together freshman year and Leon had been giving Emil this look all afternoon until finally he leaned forward and pushed Emil's bangs out of his face and kissed him._

_Kha Loung chewed his lip as he leaned in toward Emil, and Emil closed his eyes in anticipation._

_Kha Loung tangled his fingers through Emil's hair, and they fell back against the bed. Kha Loung kissed across his cheeks like his custom, the idiot, and down his neck. Emil groaned when he nipped lightly, his hands move over his shoulders and down his sides. Emil pulled at Kha Loung's shirt, pulling it up to his shoulders before Kha Loung pulled it the rest of the way off. He settled between Emil's thighs, arms braced on either side of his head._

" _Do you like, um," Kha Loung started suddenly, pulling off the kiss. He glanced down at the hoodie that Emil was wearing in lieu of a shirt._

_Emil would usually pull away here. He'd usually back out and shy away from the idea of taking off his shirt. Today was different. He was caught up in the look in Kha Loung's eyes, the feeling, and he nodded. He pulled his shirt up and sat up meekly, shouldering it off. Kha Loung was breathing deeply, eyes wide as he took in the sight of Emil's naked torso._

_Emil, feeling surprisingly courageous, wrapped his arms under Kha Loung's and pulled him down for a kiss. Their chests pressed together, Emil taking Kha Loung's weight as their lips slid together and Kha Loung breathed in every noise Emil made._

_Emil broke away, breathing deeply. Kha Loung kissed down his chin and his neck and his collar bone, spreading random kiss all around his chest._

" _You're so hot," he muttered against Emil's ribcage, and Emil blushed and frowned._

" _Come back up here, idiot," Emil whined, pulling at his hair lightly. Kha Loung chuckled and complied, nipping at Emil's lip lightly._

_Emil arched up into Kha Loung, trying to get closer. All of his skin felt like it was burning, like he had to touch Kha Loung in order to cool down but simultaneously getting hotter from the friction._

_He slid his hand down Kha Loung's side, thumb running over his nipple, pretending like it wasn't on purpose when Kha Loung hissed through his teeth. Kha Loung bit his lip harder, grasping at his thighs and pulling him closer._

_Emil froze when he felt Kha Loung's hard-on press against his own. Kha Loung peered at him, wide-eyed and rosy cheeked, and something clicked in that moment of eye contact. The next moments were a whir of breath and hands, everywhere, and rubbing against Kha Loung in an embarrassingly lewd way._

_He grabbed at Kha Loung's butt, and it was too hot but also too hot to separate from him. His heart pounded audibly._

" _Kha Loung!"_

_In a moment it was all over and he was breathing into Kha Loung's hair, both of them collapsed against each other. Emil's face turned even bright red as he realized he'd come in his pants._

_Kha Loung regained his breath quicker, his head tucked against Emil's shoulder. Turning his face more into Emil's neck, he whispered, "I love you," and kissed his jaw._

_Emil's heart didn't stop pounding even after he regained his breath. "Y-you too."_

_He needed a smoke. He needed a smoke really bad._

_Kha Loung got out of bed to change pants, making a disgusted face. "You need some pants too, huh?" he said, turning away and taking off his soiled clothes, putting on a new pair of sweatpants._

" _I have my own pants, thanks," Emil said sleepily. He grudgingly pulled open his backpack and pulled out the sweats he'd worn to go smoke. He hoped they didn't smell too heavily of smoke as he changed into them._

_Kha Loung flopped back onto the bed and indicated for Emil to join him, so he lay down next to him. Kha Loung pulled him close, placing a hand at the base of his head and pressing kisses to his cheeks, running his hand down Emil's chest._

_Suddenly, he made a face, and said, "You smell weird."_

_Emil froze. "Um, someone on the bus was smoking."_

" _Were they like, laying all over you? That's nasty," he smelled Emil's hair. "It's literally like, all over you?"_

" _Yeah he was sitting right next to me," Emil said, sitting up._

" _Do you want to take a shower?"_

" _You know, I should probably get going," he said, standing and zipping his backpack closed._

" _What?" Kha Loung said, sounding a little hurt as Emil swung his backpack over his shoulder._

" _Sorry, Lukas is probably expecting me."_

" _I can give you a ride," Kha Loung continued, following Emil into the hall._

" _That's okay," Emil said, taking the stairs quickly. He pulled open the front door to leave, but Kha Loung put a hand on it._

" _At least give me a kiss, babe," Kha Loung said. Emil was upsetting him and he knew it. He felt badly, but he would feel worse if Leon were ever to learn that he smoked. And he would feel a_ hell _of a lot worse if Lukas found out about any of this._

_He put his hand on Leon's face and gave him a quick peck. He pulled open the door and said goodbye._

* * *

It was strange sitting at the dinner table with Berwald and Tino.

It was a small round table, and they had to get a fold out chair to add to it for Emil. Tino set up the cutlery and plates as Berwald prepared the food.

Emil hadn't sat down for a meal in years.

They prayed and ate the food, Swedish meatballs that Berwald made from scratch earlier before they left for the hospital.

"So are you excited for junior year, Emil?" Tino asked as he served some green beans onto Peter's plate. "Green beans?" he asked Emil, offering him the bowl.

"No thanks," Emil waved him off. "I guess I'm as excited for it as any school year."

"Ah, I think Peter's really excited because his friend Lacey will be coming back. They're on vacation to Australia, isn't that cool?"

"Papaaaa," Peter whined.

Tino smiled, "Peter's in summer school right now, just for learning to spell the American words and such."

"It's so dumb!" Peter complained, shoveling green beans into his mouth.

"Eat slower, Peter," Berwald intoned.

Emil smiled at the childish compliance that Peter had.

"Are you going to invite that boy to Thanksgiving again?" Tino continued his friendly questioning of Emil.

Emil shrugged, "His parents are in town right now, so they might be in town for Thanksgiving and I might go to his place instead."

"What? Not coming to our Thanksgiving?" Tino asked, as if it was inconceivable.

"Well, if your plan works and Matthias and Lukas hook up I really don't want to be the fifth wheel on some nasty domestic family holiday, thanks," Emil said, only partially joking. Tino laughed.

"Alright, I guess that's understandable."

Emil felt out of place when Berwald took the dirty dishes to the kitchen and Tino set about putting the food away and Peter put away the dishes after Berwald washed them. It was so strange to him. Usually Lukas would have food made for him when he got home, or he would be called down to dinner and eat it over his textbook and put the dishes in the dish washer. Lukas did everything beyond that, except he'd occasionally ask Emil to take food up to their mother as well.

"I'll take you home now, alright? It's a little early but I don't think Lukas will notice. You can stay for our walk if you think he will, though. It's a nice night."

"Walk?" Emil asked.

Tino smiled and leaned in so Peter wouldn't hear, "We have to tire him out or he never falls asleep."

"Oh, if you wanted to go for the walk we can stay and you can do that, I don't care."

Tino smiled, "I swear it won't be too terrible."

They walked to the park and Peter ran around the toy for a while. Berwald trailed around after him, making sure he didn't get hurt and pushing him on the swing when Peter asked. Tino reminded him to say 'please'.

Emil kept his hands in his pockets and hoped that whatever his brother was doing, he wasn't fucking it up with Matthias. Lukas did have a tendency to ruin things, and Emil knew that if anything went wrong, it was Emil that was going to be getting the short end of the stick no matter what. And if things went well, Lukas would be spending a lot more time with Matthias and a lot less time at home taking care of Emil and their mother and Emil would have to step up.

Emil really had no hopes for the situation.

And no the other side—what would happen when Lukas found out about Leon and how they sort of had sex? Would he be angry? Emil was sure he would be angry. He would be furious, and either prevent him from seeing Kha Loung or he would do something else completely unfair. Was it even worth testing his fate like this?

It  _was_ great, and Emil got fuzzy feelings just thinking about it.

Peter tripped, scraping his knee as he tried running up the slide on the big toy. Berwald was next to him in a second, telling him it was okay. Tino suggested it was time to go home, smiling and rolling his eyes at how Peter pouted, trying to play off the angry red mark on his leg as nothing.

"That's fine, but I'm sure Emil wants to be getting home now." Peter conceded.

* * *

Lukas parked on the curb by Matthias' apartment. It was awkward after he shut off the car.

Matthias gathered up his stuff with his one good hand—a jacket and a small box of belongings that were on him when he got in to the hospital.

"I had an extra key made for you, since it was stolen. You should get the locks changed sometime soon, is what the police said when I filed your assault."

Matthias nodded. They sat for one prolonged moment, waiting for the other to say something, before Matthias said, "Can you come in?"

Lukas gave him a surprised look, though he'd been expecting this.

"I have to," he paused. He didn't really have an excuse to say no. He faltered and closed his mouth. "Okay."

He took the box of belongings that Matthias was struggling to grasp with one hand. They got up, Lukas locked his car, and they walked into the apartment building.

It was a charged air around them as they waited for the elevator. Lukas felt the urge for action, but he didn't know what action was called for.

Lukas unlocked the apartment for them and Matthias flipped on the light.

"This is kinda weird, ya know?" Matthias said, grabbing some dirty laundry off the back of his couch and threw it into his room. "This place is a fucking mess."

"What a filthy bachelor," Lukas said, raising his nose at the dishes in the sink that were starting to smell unsavory.

Matthias laughed and rinsed them a little, throwing them into the dish washer.

"Honestly, what would your mother say," Lukas said teasingly.

Matthias furrowed his brow a little. "Honestly, I can't remember." He laughed it off, but Lukas frowned.

"You still can't remember your mother?"

Matthias smiled and shook his head.

Lukas hummed, "Well, I'm sure you'll remember sometime soon."

Matthias nodded. He went about starting the dish washer. Lukas hovered near the door.

"I guess—I guess I should get going. You can invite me to dinner, or something," he said, inching toward the door and putting his hand on the doorknob.

"Um," Matthias interjected, putting his hand out, "Actually, maybe we could go out to the bar or something? I mean, I probably don't have any food around here," Matthias laughed, waving his hand around his empty kitchen.

"I've been drinking too much lately, I can't go to the bar," Lukas said plainly.

"Drinking too much? I thought I was the drinker." Then it dawned on Matthias why he'd been drinking. "Oh my god, Lukas, were you worrying that much?"

"Hey, shut up," Lukas said glancing toward the door and away from Matthias' big, worried puppy dog eyes.

"Oh my god…" he slung his arm over Lukas and pulled him into a half hug. "You idiot."

"Stop…" Lukas said halfheartedly.

"No come on I can pay for dinner," Matthias said, grabbing his hand (causing Lukas to pause a moment and realize that yeah, they hold hands now) and starting to open the door.

"Please, no, I can make something with what you have here."

Matthias raised his eyebrow. "I probably have ramen, that's all I can promise."

Lukas shrugged. "I can definitely make that." Matthias grinned.

"Yeah? Alright. I kinda wanna just make a nest of blankets then."

Lukas found the ramen in the closet and started boiling water in the one clean looking pan as he heard Matthias going between the closet and the living room piling blankets onto the couch. It must be difficult with one hand but Lukas figured he'd get it.

He served the ramen in two bowls and came to find Matthias bundled loosely in like five blankets. He pushed the blankets open for Lukas to perch himself next to him inside the nest.

They ate in silence and Lukas placed the bowls on the coffee table when they were done, leaning back against Matthias.

It was a few tensely quiet moments before anyone spoke.

"This is weird." Lukas nodded in agreement. "I feel like we need to do something or say something. For all the years leading up to this, it's really anticlimactic."

"Years, huh?" Lukas asked flatly. Of course he knew it was years, even a decade for himself that he'd been hoping this would happen.

Matthias laughed, putting his arm around Lukas' shoulder. "Well, yeah." He obviously hoped to leave it there. When Lukas waited for an elaboration, Matthias sighed. "You know that photo that you brought of us packing for you to go to college? I think that was when I realized I was in love with you, because suddenly you weren't going to be around all the time and I realized how much I was going to miss you and, yeah." Matthias bit his lip and looked at their empty bowls on the table. He was embarrassed. "That photo helped me remember."

"So when we were eighteen." Of course Lukas didn't expect much more, but now it was really embarrassing to admit he'd had a crush on Matthias since middle school.

"Yeah, what about you?"

Lukas put a hand over his eyes. "Eighth grade."

"What!"

Lukas made an annoyed sound. "Yeah, don't make a big deal of it."

Matthias smiled broadly and pulled Lukas closer, grinning against his cheek. Lukas made a face and pushed against his good shoulder lightly.

"Stop screwing around, we need to talk about this more seriously. "

Matthias laughed softly, but let Lukas resituate himself off of Matthias. "Okay, you lead discussion then," Matthias said, faux seriously.

"First of all, you need to know that my mom and Emil come first still. I can't drop everything to go out to dinner or something, so don't push it. "

"Okay, that makes sense. I can come over for dinner," he winked, and Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Second, don't get all stupid romantic with me, I don't like that. Especially in front of other people, it's embarrassing."

"Um, okay that might be hard for me remember. You'll have to remind me occasionally."

Lukas sighed, "I expected to."

Matthias smiled sheepishly.

"I also think that, since this is a new relationship, we might want to, um, step back from what we used to do, and start over." He said this nervously almost, glancing at Matthias.

"I don't know what you mean," Matthias said.

Lukas sighed. Of course he had to be straight forward, unfortunately. "I don't think we should kiss right away, because this is different, right?"

"Oh." Matthias frowned. He hadn't thought of that. "Even as a goodbye?" He was so used to goodbye kisses and hello kisses. Of course he'd always pretended like they were romantic kisses because wishful thinking, but Lukas had a good point. It wouldn't really be that special if they continued on like normal.

"So I have to court you. Should I ask your mother for your hand in marriage, too?" Matthias smiled, but he knew Lukas knew that he was joking. Lukas rolled his eyes and made an annoyed, but noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. "Anything else?"

Lukas frowned and thought for a second. "I'll let you know if I think of anything else."

Matthias nodded. "Well, in the meantime, can I, uh, hold you?"

Lukas frowned, "I think that's okay."

He put his arm back around Lukas' shoulders, hand against his chest, and pulled him against his own chest. "Now tell me what's happened in the last couple weeks."

Lukas sighed deeply.

* * *

"Something's bothering you."

Yao put the tea cup on the saucer, plaintively waiting for Leon to respond.

Leon was looking out the window, watching birds as they flocked around the bird feeder in the backyard.

"Hm?" he said, frowning at his cousin.

"You're distracted. Do you know what I was talking about?"

"Um," Leon looked back out the window. "I don't know, sorry. I guess I  _am_  distracted."

"Well, if you want to talk about anything..." Yao offered, though he was a little peeved that Leon didn't hear what he was saying about the recipe he'd tried.

Leon nodded. "Okay." He took a sip of tea. "Can I ask you some personal questions?"

Yao could tell that this was going to become an involved conversation, but he couldn't exactly say no. "Alright, go ahead."

"How old were you when you like, had sex."

Yao almost choked on his tea. "Oh, um, I was in college so probably twenty or twenty one?"

Leon nodded, watching intently as a humming bird flew around the other birds, trying to get a bit of nectar. "Did you regret waiting so long?"

"No, I never would have known what I wanted when I was younger."

Leon nodded. "How many people have you slept with?"

"You know some people might think it's kind of rude of you to ask someone so much older than you about these kinds of things."

"I'm sorry; you don't have to answer any of these if you don't want to."

Yao crossed his arms. "I've slept with five men."

Leon looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that changed anything, sleeping with so many people?"

"Um, no I don't really think so-"

"Is Ivan okay with it?"

"I hardly think that he should care, but-"

"Does he know?"

"I've told him, yes."

"Do you think that it'll change anything?"

"I don't think so."

"What do you usually do… like afterwards."

Yao raised his brow sharply. "These are really specific questions."

Leon nodded. "I need specific information."

"Google it, then."

Leon rolled his eyes. "Just tell me if you don't want to answer my questions, okay?"

"I guess it depends on the person and what your relationship with them is."

"What do you mean, relationship? Don't you usually date people when you sleep with them?"

"Not necessarily. Sometimes you just meet up with them and leave afterward and it doesn't have to mean anything."

Leon furrowed his brow. "So, when it doesn't mean anything, you just leave?"

Yao frowned, considering this. "Not necessarily. Even if you aren't romantically involved with someone, you can stay. Or sometimes people get scared and leave quickly. I don't really think there's a real rule of thumb."

Leon hummed. "Why is it so complicated?"

Yao smiled and shrugged. "People are complicated."

Leon ran a hand down his face. "It's just, like, my boyfriend's been so weird lately and I don't understand what's going on."

Yao frowned, "I'm sorry. Do you want to tell me what he's doing?"

"Not really. I'm sorry for being so like, weird with all these questions."

Yao shook his head, "No, it's perfectly okay. My boyfriend's been weird, too, lately. Sometimes you don't know if they even notice how weird they're acting, huh?"

Leon nodded, smiling. "What's Ivan doing?"

Yao shrugged and smiled. "Ivan's a nervous baby, I can't tell what he's thinking, but he's been really skittish the last couple of days. Like I gave him a hug goodbye and he froze up like we were just starting dating all over again."

Leon laughed. "That's weird." Yao shrugged and laughed.

"Boys are weird, huh?"

* * *

Ivan had gone to the library and sat next to Yao as he read. Ivan had a book in front of him, but even more than in the past, he couldn't focus. He watched Yao's hands and how he held the book, how he touched the pages so carefully.

Ivan smiled at how cute his big red sweater was that he was wearing despite it being  _summer_  and  _warm_.

At one point Yao put the book down and read it off the table as he messed with his hair, putting down half of it so two strands of bangs fell over his forehead and Ivan had to bite his lip because he was  _so cute_  and his chest ached.

Yao glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and smiled, and Ivan jumped a little, embarrassed and being caught.

"Do you want to go get coffee?" Yao asked as they left the library a half hour later.

"Um," Ivan was caught. "No I have some things to do."

"Oh. Things." Yao smiled and nodded. "I'll see you around, then." He opened his arms for a hug and Ivan froze up and leaned down for a hug. He was suddenly self-conscious of how he moved, where he put his hand. He didn't want to make it weird. Because of this, he made it weird.

Now he lay on his couch, staring up at the ceiling. That was so dumb. He didn't have anything to do, and he turned Yao down.

Ivan felt like he should do something to make it up. Did Yao really care that much though? It would be nice to do something romantic, though.

Were flowers too cliché? Roses definitely would be. Maybe Ivan could drop by Yao's apartment when he was working (tonight he had an afternoon shift, Ivan knew), and asked Kiku. That sounded like a good plan, so that's what he did.

He knocked on the door at about five 'o' clock and hoped that Kiku was home and not in the middle of dinner.

Kiku answered with a somewhat annoyed face and a baggy t-shirt, which was surprising. "Yao's not home."

"I know, um, I was wondering if I could ask you something."

Kiku raised his eyebrow. "K, come in."

Ivan kicked off his shoes and followed Kiku to the living room. He already had a kettle of tea, and Kiku offered him some. He accepted it, knowing that it would be rude to not take it.

"What do you want?"

"I was just wondering, what Yao's favorite flowers are."

"So you're asking his brother?" Kiku asked, unimpressed.

"Oh. Well, I don't know how to contact Mei."

Kiku sighed. "It's plum blossoms. They're hard to find. Near Uwajimaya a couple blocks from here there's a nice florist who usually carries them during the summer."

"Thank you," Ivan said, a little surprised. He started to stand, but Kiku stopped him.

"Finish your tea, please."

Ivan stopped, nodding sheepishly. "Sorry." He sat back down and took a sip from the tea cup that Kiku had poured for him.

"Do you plan to marry Yao?"

Ivan swallowed his tea loudly. "What?"

"I'm just wondering. Since you're getting flowers and everything, it seems you're in over your head, huh?"

"I—I really haven't thought about it."

"Hm. I wouldn't get hung up on the idea."

Ivan frowned. "Why do you not like me?"

Kiku took a sip from his cup and refilled it from the kettle. "I don't like how he acts, the more he's around you. He doesn't go to the library as often or do a lot of other things he likes."

"Are you sure you don't just think that because he's not spending as much time around  _you_?" Ivan shouldn't push this so personally back, but he was caught off guard by Kiku's bad attitude.

Kiku made a sour face, but looked at his cup. "Maybe you're right."

Ivan sipped his cup quickly, and they sat in the meantime in silence.

"Thank you for the tea." Kiku nodded curtly and let Ivan leave, gathering his own jacket and closing the door behind himself. It was weird how cold the apartment was without Yao.

* * *

Early Sunday morning, Peter fell asleep against Berwald's arm in the church pew.

When the congregation was asked to stand for a praise song, Berwald scooped him up in his arms and let him lay his head on his shoulder as he and Tino stood and sang the song.

Although when Tino and Berwald initially joined the church they would get some nasty looks from the other church-goers, they've now been essentially accepted into the group. The older women who sat in the pews behind them currently cooed at how cute Peter was.

Berwald had joined a group that met on Wednesdays for parents of pre-school and elementary school age children, and he women there had accepted him openly, even inviting him to a knitting group that met on Thursdays once they found out about his hobby. Some of their husbands had been coming and sitting outside the room and talked, and Berwald had also joined in their conversations about carpentry and making treehouses for the kids. Berwald had quickly become popular among both the mothers and fathers of other kids Peter's age.

Tino didn't make quite as many friends as Berwald had in the church, still sensing some of the others in the congregation not liking him and Berwald as a couple, even if they liked Berwald individually.

Tino had met with the pastor by himself with concerns over this, but had been reassured that the congregation was just unused to a same-gender couple with a child. It was unusual, he said, to have a gay couple who regularly attended church. "They would get used to it," he said.

Tino still wasn't so sure, but Berwald was getting along fine and Peter was having fun at Sunday school, so he was sure it was just in his head.

He was sure that when he and Berwald approached the head pastor about their wedding, he would agree.

Berwald asked one of his knitting friends to watch Peter as he and Tino went to talk to the pastor.

They told the pastor their plans—to have it in a facility downtown, and hopefully have the pastor reside over it.

He looked conflicted. "Well, Tino, Berwald, I would love to. I'm just not sure if the congregation would think it was appropriate if I resided of a same-sex marriage as the head pastor here. I think that it might be better if you approached one of the other pastors here for this. I wish I could help, and I'm really sorry."

Tino hadn't expected that at all, and his chest froze up momentarily. "Oh." He glanced at Berwald, but Berwald didn't seem to react at all. "That's okay, I'm sorry for bothering you." His chest ached and he felt a little sick, but as long as Berwald wasn't too upset he was okay.

Berwald stood.

"I'm really sorry, folks," the pastor said again.

"S'okay," Berwald stopped him. "We can find another church."

Tino stood too, "What?" Tino asked, trying to follow the flurry of action. The pastor stood too.

"Now, I'm sure that's not necessary," the pastor started. Berwald ignored him, taking Tino's hand and moving to the door.

"No, thanks for yer time." He went out and closed the door behind them. "I'll get Peter."

"Wait, Berwald, are you serious?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, about finding a new church. That was a little rash, wasn't it?" he lowered his voice to a whisper as they walked into the fireside room, noticing how they were drawing attention.

"If he doesn't feel comfortable with us," Berwald shrugged. Tino was surprised even still.

* * *

It only took about a half hour for Ivan to find the flower shop that Kiku had mentioned. The plum blossoms came in shades of red and pink, and Ivan found the bouquet that featured the reddest shade possible.

Yao was still in work, and would be until about seven that night when he closed shop.

Maybe Ivan could buy some chocolates, too, and meet him at work. Yao did really like chocolate.

Ivan added a small chocolate bar to his purchase.

The book shop was only a dozen blocks away, so he took his time and walked there. He got a lot of smiles from women walking by, holding a bouquet and all.

He arrived at Yao's shop in about a half hour. He set the bouquet outside and put the chocolate bar in his pocket and went inside quickly.

Yao was behind the desk. "W-Ivan, hi! What are you doing here?" he asked with a smile.

"Just here to see you," Ivan said sheepishly.

"I'm getting off work in about fifteen minutes. You want to wait around till then? You can look at books or something."

"I'll wait outside, okay?" Ivan said, smiling warmly. Yao gave him a curious look, but nodded.

Ivan went back out and picked up the bouquet, and leaned against the wall a few feet away from the door to the bookshop.

Yao came out a little more than fifteen minutes later, and Ivan presented the bouquet to him. Yao stared at it.

"Those are my favorite, how did you know?"

"I asked someone. And here," Ivan added, pulling the chocolate out of his pocket.

Yao took it and looked at Ivan with wide eyes. "This was… really thoughtful of you."

Ivan smiled shyly. "I felt bad for passing up coffee earlier."

Yao stared at the flowers and took them from Ivan. There was something in his eyes—something that Ivan vaguely recognized. Yao was stunned.

"Do you want to come back to my place?"

Ivan was a little taken aback by this, but he nodded. "Er—is Kiku going to be home?"

"Probably not. Why?"

Ivan shrugged. "I feel like he doesn't like me."

Yao rolled his eyes. "Of course. Kiku hates it when I have a life. He won't bother us even if he is home," Yao was being persuasive, smiling.

"Okay."

* * *

As soon as they got inside his apartment and Yao ensured that Kiku wasn't home, he put the flowers on the counter and pulled Ivan down into a kiss. Somehow, Ivan hadn't expected it even though it was entirely expectable.

Yao pushed his hands through Ivan's hair and pushed him against the counter, and Ivan's breath was swept away his breath. His hands came to frame Ivan's face, before moving down over Ivan's shoulders and chest, coming to his hips and pulling him closer. Ivan made a muffled sound of surprise and pinned Yao against the counter.

Once Ivan regained control of himself, he wrapped his arms around Yao's back and pulled him even closer, Yao's hands on his chest, and pulled his hair loose. Yao reached up and pulled on Ivan's hair sharply, and Ivan groaned.

Panting, Yao pulled away from the kiss, "Bed?"

Slightly dazed, Ivan nodded.

 


	63. not twenty

Yao's back was pressed against the wall as he trailed kisses down Ivan's neck, Ivan bracing his arms against the wall above Yao's head and making throaty moaning sounds. Yao pushed his hands against Ivan's forearms, feeling up the firm muscles.

His hips ground up against Ivan's, "Pick me up," he said, his voice husky.

Ivan did, gripping Yao's behind, Yao hooking his legs around his waist. Yao was so light for Ivan, but he still had to press himself all up against Yao, chest to chest and hips to hips. Hips that were, flusteringly rotating against Ivan's hips, as Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan's shoulders, feeling up the tense muscles of Ivan's arms, groaning softly against Ivan's neck.

Ivan could barely keep his eyes open, having to lean his weight against Yao's hips, keep them pinned. Yao gripped more desperately at his shoulders, one hand reaching up and grabbing at Ivan's hair. He pulled at Ivan's shirt, hooking his ankles together behind Ivan's back and moving to the front of Ivan's shirt, starting to undo the top buttons.

Ivan's heart was racing. He pressed his face against Yao's hair, tried to lift him up higher so he could kiss him. "Yao," Ivan groaned, his voice rough.

Yao's fingers weren't as nimble as usual, but he eventually got three buttons undone and pulled the collar open, "God, clothes. Put me down, too many clothes."

Ivan let Yao down and stepped back. Yao pulled his own shirt off over his head, and Ivan watched in awe. He was stunned. His heart was beating too fast and he felt kind of choked up, completely overwhelmed by Yao and also completely okay with that. Was that what love was?

Yao refocused his attention on Ivan, who appeared to be frozen. Yao's eyes were so dark, and Ivan found himself licking his lips nervously.

Yao came closer, putt9ing his hands on his chest, pulling at the remaining buttons. He slid his hands up his chest once the buttons were out of the way, pushing his shirt open.

Ivan watched him, transfixed on the passion in his eyes, and how his hair fell over his shoulders so  _nicely_  and his smooth skin and how his lips were so, so red when he leaned up to kiss him. Ivan complied easily, one hand sliding into Yao's hair as he bent down to his level. He wrapped his arm around Yao's lower back and pulled him close, cupping his head and deepening the kiss. Yao clutched Ivan's arms, being tipped backward and unable to register much beyond how much Ivan had improved in his kissing.

Ivan's heart was beating too fast, and he needed air, and so he pulled away. Yao took a moment to catch his breath before pushing the sleeves of Ivan's shirt down off his shoulders, pulling it off altogether and tossing it on the floor.

The back of Ivan's calves found the edge of Yao's bed, and he fell back onto it, sitting on the end. Yao pressed him to scoot back, sit in the middle, and Yao followed, straddling his hips and sitting on him. Ivan pulled him close again.

Yao's clothed thighs were warm and his chest was pleasantly velvety against his own. Yao watched his hands as he ran them over Ivan's shoulders, up to his face. He traced Ivan's jaw with his fingertip, the other hand running over his smooth hair.

Ivan leaned into the hand and closed his eyes. He felt like purring. Lips parted, Ivan couldn't remember being more content to sit and let someone touch him. Yao's hands were soft and warm.

His hands came to rest on Ivan's cheeks, cupping his face. Ivan kept his eyes closed, savoring the feeling of Yao so close, all around him, Thighs on his hips and calves at his back, chest to chest and hands on his face.

And Yao kissed him, softly, on the lips. Ivan moaned in surprise, parting his lips, but Yao didn't move to deepen it anymore. It was a serene, static kiss, which lasted only a moment before Yao pulled back and looked at Ivan with big, dark eyes that made Ivan feel dizzy, even dizzier than the kiss.

Ivan raised his hands to cover Yao's, cupping them and kissing the palm of one of them. Yao breathed deeply, biting his lip as Ivan continued to tenderly press kisses to his palm, moving to his wrist and back before pressing his palm back to his cheek, leaning into it and closing his eyes.

"Ivan," Yao whispered, coaxing Ivan's eyes back onto him. "Touch me."

Ivan didn't move for a moment, swallowed, and ran his hands over Yao's thighs, slowly, nervously. They rested on Yao's hips. He leaned forward, lowering Yao back onto the bed and kneeling over him.

Yao traced Ivan's lips with his thumb, watching him with hooded eyes. " _Touch_  me," he said again, borderline whiny.

"I—where?" Ivan asked huskily, his mind too clouded to know where to begin.

"Everywhere," Yao breathed.

Ivan frowned, eyes wide, "That's… too vague."

Yao looked at him for a long moment, before comprehending what he said and laughing. He laughed hard and had to take his hands from Ivan's face because of how he shook.

"Hey! What are you laughing at?" Ivan asked, trying to pout, but ending up laughing along with him.

"You're just so," Yao broke up laughing, "Just so  _cute_."

Ivan's face burned red so he hid it in Yao's shoulder. "You're bullying me," he whined, which only fueled Yao's laughing.

Yao put his hand on the back of Ivan's head, meaning to pat him and make amends. "Come on, I'm sorry, give me your hands again darling."

"Don't call me darling at a time like this!" Ivan protested, but put his hands where Yao could take them in his again.

Yao chuckled, "Come on, show me your face. Don't be shy."

Ivan whined one last time, on the principle of showing he was still unhappy (which wasn't true, he was just embarrassed), and peeked up at Yao, who was grinning.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not  _that_  terrible to look at," Yao joked, taking Ivan's hands and putting them on his face. Ivan scoffed.

Grasping Ivan's hands with a sly smile on his face, Yao slid them down his body, over his chest and down his sides.

Ivan was quickly mesmerized, intoxicated by Yao, his presence and how he moved, his gentle grip on Ivan's hands as he moved them over his body, at the part of his lips when he knew Ivan was watching and how his hair was fanned out so perfectly on the pillow. Yao readjusted his denim clad thighs on Ivan's hips, the fabric rubbing pleasantly against Ivan's stomach, and ran Ivan's hands down them slowly.

Ivan was breathing harder, trying to keep it even so he wouldn't embarrass himself. It was really difficult.

"Go on, darling," Yao said with a wink, letting go of Ivan's hands and stretching his arms above his head. "Touch me."

Ivan only hesitated a moment this time before complying, gliding his hands over Yao's thighs, one hand moving to rest on his hip and run circles around the hip bone with his thumb, the other resting his knuckles against Yao's ribcage. He put his face back to Yao's shoulder, kissing anything he could get to along his collarbone.

The hand on Yao's hip moved toward his button incrementally, and Ivan pressed the question against Yao's throat, "Can I?"

Yao nodded breathlessly.

Ivan was not a petty person. He just had a tendency to do petty things.

He grinned, "I need a  _verbal_  answer."

Yao smiled with a hint of disbelief, "You ass," he muttered. "Yes, you can."

Ivan grinned against his neck and quickly undid the button and zipper of Yao's jeans. Ivan sat back on his heels and Yao lifted his hips to let him pull the jeans down, Yao pushing them the rest of the way off. They crumpled on the floor.

A teasing smile on his lips, Ivan softly traced the edge of Yao's underwear with his thumbnail. "This is what you wanted, right?" he asked cheekily.

"You're still an ass," Yao frowned.

"What did you want something more?" Ivan asked, making a pointedly innocent face.

"I'll throw you out of this apartment if you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Jesus Christ!" Yao cried in frustration. "I'm not even Christian; see what you drive me to?"

Ivan laughed heartily. He couldn't shake the grin even as he pulled Yao's underwear down.

He took Yao in hand and stroked. Yao chewed on his cheek, screwing up his face.

"A little tighter-!" Yao had said, cut off by a soft groan as Ivan complied.

Ivan leaned on his forearm braced above Yao's head and leaned in to kiss him, not stopping his ministrations. Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan's shoulders tightly, legs gripping around Ivan, his back arching and pressing their chests against each other and Ivan swore he could feel Yao's heart beating against his ribcage. It was a difficult angle but Ivan endeavored.

Ivan was surprised by the sting of Yao's blunt nails at his shoulder at first, but quickly found himself pleased by it, Yao's heels digging into his lower back as he got closer to the brink. He bit Ivan's lip, bordering the fence between pleasurable and  _painful_ , and one of his hands moved to grip Ivan's hair.

In just a moment Yao pulled away, gasping for breath, " _Ivan_ ," and bit his own lip.

Ivan pumped faster, racing him to the finish, trying to keep back the hiss of pain as Yao yanked his hair. Yao's thighs shook before his muscles went taut and he groaned, softly, and went limp. Yao laid back and panted, evening out his breath. His eyes were closed and Ivan thought he might've passed out. He reached up and grabbed some tissues from his night stand to clean him up with and Yao opened his eyes lazily and smiled.

"You're still an ass."

Ivan laughed and threw the tissues into the trash. "You know I'm gonna go to the bathroom and-," Ivan said, detaching himself from Yao and starting to get up before Yao stopped him.

"You don't have to do that, just give me a sec, babe," he said lazily, stretching his arms and legs out. "Come here," he beckoned for Ivan to come down to him and kiss, let him drape his arms over him loosely.

He kissed languidly, folding his fingers behind Ivan's neck. Eventually he broke off and kissed Ivan on the cheek with a sweet smile.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" he asked casually.

Ivan swallowed, shocked, and looked at Yao with wide eyes. "S-sure." Yao grinned, quickly moving to switch their positions.

However, Ivan hissed when he laid on his back, jumping back into a sitting position.

"What's wrong?" Yao asked, concerned.

"God, my back hurts?"

Yao furrowed his brow. "Turn around," he instructed, and Ivan complied, grimacing at the pain. "Oh my god, did I scratch you? There are marks…"

Ivan and Yao frowned at each other. There were four long, angry red scratch marks stretching near Ivan's spine to the outer edge of his shoulder blade. There was a moment of silence, and Yao felt really guilty for not controlling himself better.

Ivan shook his head, chuckling. It grew into a laugh, and his shoulders shook in a moment. "This hurts a lot can you go get some disinfectant," he said through his laughs.

Yao smiled guiltily and nodded, getting up. Not quite what he'd planned, but when it came to Ivan, when  _did_ it go how he imagined?

* * *

"I don't want to be here," Lars hissed at Bella as she parked in the airport garage.

"Aren't you excited to see Rodrigo? It's been a long time since he's come to visit."

Lars made a noncommittal sound as he swung his car door shut. It was cold in the parking garage, and he pulled his hood up and shoved his hands into his hoodie's pockets.

"Look, you have to act like you're happy because this is important to Antonio."

Lars rolled an annoyed sound off the back of his throat.

"Now come on, Lovino's cousins will be here really soon."

"I really care about Lovino's cousins." Lars rolled his eyes. "I refuse to move faster than this," he said, pointedly strolling at a languid pace. In reality, his legs were really sore and he really couldn't walk much faster, but it seemed cooler if he acted like he was just being obstinate.

They still got to the terminal exit well after the cousins had arrived and were chatting loudly with Feliciano. Lars found a bench and sat aside from everyone else, and Bella went and bought him a tea.

The next plane was supposed to arrive from an Austin layover in fifteen minutes with Lovino's mother, uncle, and Antonio's brother.

Lars had nerves about seeing Rodrigo, Antonio's older brother. Rodrigo had been like the big brother Lars had never had since Lars and Bella arrived at Mrs. Carriedo's house with their step-mother after she'd divorced their father. Rodrigo had driven Lars to school and helped him with homework and given him advice he couldn't get from his step-mother. Granted, Antonio was also kind of like an older brother, it wasn't in the same way as Rodrigo.

Rodrigo was the only member of his family Lars didn't break contact with when he moved to San Francisco so long ago. He hadn't spoken to him since he'd told Antonio and Bella about his cancer, and remembering Rodrigo's temper over petty or unimportant things, he was sure to be upset with Lars that he had to find out through Antonio.

Lars wished he hadn't let himself be pulled along. He surveyed the large group of them waiting for the plane to arrive. The Vargas cousins—whose surnames weren't actually Vargas—still chatting  _very_  loudly with Feliciano, Antonio chatting with Grandpa Augustus, Mrs. Carriedo going on about Rodrigo to Lovino, who looked like he was only humoring her out of politeness. Romano being polite. Lars chuckled under his breath. Bella stood nearby Lars, hovering as she had been for the last couple months.

The luggage carousel started up presently, signaling that the plane had landed. People started flooding down the escalators into the luggage area, and the whole party watched intently for their own relatives.

Rodrigo was the first one down, wearing a white tee and skinny jeans and a hiker's backpack over his shoulders, a small duffle in his hand.

Rodrigo was a young looking man, seeming not to be a day over twenty five despite his thirty-some years. His skin and hair were darker than Antonio's, but his eyes were the same green, and his smile was the same smile when he spotted his family in the crowd.

"Ay, Rodrigo!" Antonio shouted, waving his arm over his head. "Over here!"

Mrs. Carriedo was the first one to rush forward and hug Rodrigo tightly, excitedly chattering in Spanish to him, too fast for him to respond.

"Hello, Mama, yes hello," he said through his chuckles. "Hey, you stupid," he said to Antonio too, giving him a one armed hug. He glanced at Lovino, too, saying, "Hope he's not been giving you too much trouble, eh?" Antonio laughed and Lovino smiled despite himself.

"Rodrigo, you haven't met Lovino's grandpa have you? This is Grandpa Augustus," Antonio said, pulling him over to Augustus. "And this is my brother Rodrigo. He's a real estate contractor in Portugal."

"Portugal? You came quite a ways for this wedding!" Augustus said, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"Well, it is my favorite little brother's, after all," Rodrigo smiled cheekily, eyeing Antonio.

"Favorite? I'm your  _only_  little brother!"

"Hey, is that Bella? What are you doing, acting like a stranger over there?" he beckoned for Bella to come over to the group. He hadn't noticed her before. "And Lars?"

He pulled away from his Mama and brother and went over to the bench they were at, pulling Bella into a tight hug. "Too long, cousin. You guys have to come visit me in Portugal sometime." He helped Lars to his feet and put his hands on his shoulders, keeping him arms length away and scrutinizing him with a smile.

"You know, you don't look as shitty as I was expecting," he said with a grin. Lars scoffed, but couldn't stop the smile stretching across his face.

"Can't say the same for you." Rodrigo cackled and gave him a hug, too.

"Oh you're a real smart ass, aren't you?"

"Ay, mi hijo, two years is too long now to visit! I've been so worried about you all the way around the world, all alone!" Mrs. Carriedo cut in again, managing to make herself understandable even through her thick accent.

"Well," Rodrigo trailed off, stepping away from his cousins and rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, I have a girlfriend, so I'm not  _all_  alone," he said, smiling at the floor.

"Girlfriend?" his mother chirped, "Why haven't I heard of her before? How long? What's her name?"

"Like, a year?"

"A  _year_  and I haven't  _heard_ of her? Rodrigo Carriedo Fernandez why didn't you tell me about her before? You should've brought her to the wedding so I could meet her!"

"Um, actually, I did. She can't come for a few more days, though," Rodrigo said.

"What! Why didn't you tell me? Where's she from? Is she Portuguese or Spanish? I hope she's Spanish. What's she like?" Mrs. Carriedo started off excitedly.

"Whoa, Mama, give Rodrigo some time to breathe. You can ask later, we have to keep an eye out for Lovino's uncle now."

Mrs. Carriedo nodded begrudgingly, still bubbling with excitement. "What does your uncle look like, Lovino?"

Rodrigo went to sit by Lars.

"Um…" Lovino frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not quite sure."

"He looks Italian, but badly dressed, so that'll give him away," August provided.

The cousins laughed from where they were sitting. "His son Romeo is with him, he'll be easier to see. He dresses really badly and falls all about himself."

"Yeah, he'll probably fall down the escalator," the other cousin added, and they both laughed.

"Hey, you two have to behave yourselves even if your mother's not here," Augustus said sternly.

"Yeah, don't be fucking jerks," Lovino added.

"Is that him?" Rodrigo said, pointing at someone who was coming down the escalator.

Augustus turned, saw him and nodded. Before he could call out to his son, Lorenzo spotted them, tugged on his son's sleeve and pointed at the group of them waiting.

Romeo was sixteen and his hair was light brown, lighter than Feliciano, and it was ridiculously messy. His jacket looked thrifted and he was wearing fingerless gloves, but a nice collared shirt and old slacks that had partially lost their color. Lorenzo looked similar, but his hair was darker and graying, and he had a mustache that was graying as well.

"They look homeless," one of the cousins whispered loudly to the other.

"They aren't?" the other responded, snickering.

Augustus smacked them over the head.

"Ciao papa!" Lorenzo called from the escalator, and his son Romeo waved excitedly.

Augustus grinned. When Lorenzo and Romeo were finally off the packed escalator, Augustus hugged both of them. "This is my middle child, Lorenzo, and my youngest grandson, Romeo," he introduced them to Mrs. Carriedo.

Lorenzo smiled and nodded and quickly moved onto clapping Lovino on the shoulder.

"My, you are so big and handsome now! How long has it been? No wonder you're getting married so young! How old are you again?"

"Twenty six," Lovino said, overwhelmed by Lorenzo's enthusiasm.

"Which'a one's Antonio?"

Antonio raised his hand. Lorenzo grinned and threw his arm over Antonio's shoulder, tapping on his chest with his other index finger, "You know this is my favorite nephew right here," he said, pointing briefly at Lovino, "So you'd better behave yourself."

Antonio smiled warmly, "I'll do my best."

Augustus pulled him away from Antonio, "Don't harass him. How was your job hunting going?"

"Haha," Lorenzo said, shrugging Augustus' hand off. "Back to Lovino! We should go shopping or get dinner sometime. I'm sure my old man knows some good ristorantes, right Paps?"

"I'm not paying for it."

"Oh I'm sure Alida can fork over some money for us," he shrugged.

"What can I 'fork' over?" Alida had rolled up with her bags behind Lorenzo. "I'm not paying for your stupid shenanigans."

Alida was a petite middle aged woman with curly dark brown hair. Her mouth was set in a cold frown and her eyes were concealed behind big round shades.

"I didn't see you come down, haha!" Lorenzo turned quickly to face his sister, looking her up and down quickly. "I didn't think you were one to give yourself away so easily," he said on seeing her fancy well-tailored clothes.

"What do you mean, idiot?"

"Well, you know what they always say, 'the devil wears Prada', and I always said, 'Alida is the devil', and now I have proof," he said smugly.

"Lorenzo," Augustus scolded.

Alida just scoffed. "Shows what you know, this is Dior." She slid the handles of her bags down and sat. "Well, are you going to introduce me to Antonio, Lovino?"

Lorenzo scoffed and Antonio came forward to meet her, nervously debating whether to try to look her in the eye or not.

He wasn't the only one who was nervous. Feliciano looked on from the other side of his cousins, fiddling with his curl anxiously. Lovino would prefer if Lorenzo would just continue bickering with her.

Alida crossed her legs and waited.

"Antonio, this is my mother," Alida put her hand out to shake Antonio's. "Mother, this is Antonio."

Alida didn't say anything, only scrutinized him harshly as they shook hands. She was quickly over Antonio and peering up at Augustus instead.

"So you're still alive, then," she said, sounding impressed.

"Alida…" Augustus frowned.

She stood and cut him off. "I have a rental car I have to go pick out."

"You don't know how to get to my house though, so you may as well wait a bit."

"Oh don't worry, I have a hotel reservation."

"But the plan all along was that the family would stay with me?" Augustus pressed, frowning deeper.

"Yeah, but that would get too crowded I think. Ciao, see you." She turned, waving briefly at Feliciano, who she hadn't greeted, and went off toward the rental car agency.

Mrs. Carriedo whistled. "She sure is something."

Augustus nodded, "She's always been a handful." Augustus shook his head and looked at his wrist watch. "Your nephew's coming in soon, right?"

"Yes, not very long from now."

"Does anyone know what Sebastien looks like?" Antonio asked, glancing at Bella and Lars questioningly.

Bella shrugged. "I have no idea. I haven't seen him since he was a tiny kid."

Lars made a noise that probably meant similar to what Bella said, but more rudely.

"Well, does Sebastien know what we look like?" Antonio continued.

"There's a picture of you and Lovino in the invitation I sent," Mrs. Carriedo provided.

"Well that's something."

"I bet he's blond like us. That's all I can say."

"Yeah," Rodrigo agreed, "I bet he does look a lot like Lars." He frowned at Lars, thinking. "Yeah I bet he really does."

"Stop saying that," Lars snapped.

Rodrigo just laughed at pulled at his shoulder.

"He'll be dressed nicely I bet!" Bella said. "Even on a transatlantic flight he's probably wearing nice clothes."

Antonio nodded. "How old is he? Do you think he'll be as tall as Lars?"

"He's about seventeen isn't he?" Mrs. Carriedo asked.

"Seventeen? What an awful age," Rodrigo added in.

Bella pulled out her phone. "Maybe I can look up his Facebook. It's Sebastien with an 'e', right?"

Antonio nodded. No one added anything as she pulled it up on her phone.

The plane was delayed last moment for an extra twenty minutes.

"I found him," Bella said a few seconds later. "But his profile photo is a dog and his setting only lets friends see him." She sat on the other side of Rodrigo. "I guess we'll just have to hope that he recognizes us."

Rodrigo nodded.

Lovino's cousins became restless, waiting, and Romeo started to explore the stores, coming back with a hamburger and marveling over the receipt that was all written in English.

Bella hummed impatiently as they waited, tapping her toe impatiently. She was excited to meet her little brother.

Lars wasn't. He didn't want to meet Sebastien. He was nine years older than Sebastien and he hadn't seen him since he was eleven, when Lars' stepmother divorced their father and got custody of him and Bella. Sebastien was two years old and their father won custody of him.

While their father was a successful entrepreneur, their stepmother had to move in with their biological aunt, who was not related to their stepmother at all, and work much too hard to keep them fed. Lars was  _definitely_ bitter about this, and he knew it was unfair to hold it against Sebastien, but Lars knew himself and he knew when to admit he was petty and he knew that even admitting it wouldn't make him any less so.

So no, Lars wasn't looking for Sebastien, and no, Lars didn't like Rodrigo saying that Sebastien probably looked like him, because they were only related through their father and if they looked similar that meant they both looked like their father. Lars hated their father and if Sebastien confirmed that they both looked like their father, Lars would probably hate him too.

"Lars, you're shaking," Bella said, peering at him over Rodrigo.

Lars froze, looking over at her. Rodrigo looked concerned as well.

"Are you okay?" Rodrigo asked.

Lars nodded.

"Do you need more tea?"

"No," Lars barked. Lars leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand.

Rodrigo was still looking at him, so Lars stared at the back of Antonio's head, who was still watching the clock for when the plane was expected.

"Excuse me?" someone tapped on Bella's shoulder. "Is your name Bella?"

Bella peered up at the young boy, and smiled broadly. "Yes?" She stood. "Are you Sebastien?"

He nodded, smiling hugely.

Antonio turned around, and soon Lars couldn't even see Sebastien a moment later through Mrs. Carriedo and Bella and Antonio and Rodrigo all crowding around him.

"You're such a handsome young man, welcome to America!" he heard Mrs. Carriedo say.

"What a cutie! You have to have a girlfriend back home, right?" Bella said.

Lars didn't even think they were giving the kid a chance to breathe.

"Wow, you have Lars' eyes, you know that?" someone said, and Lars frowned to himself. Lars didn't get up to see him, was hoping they would forget about him for a while.

"Lars, come on, come see him!" Bella said as soon as she realized Lars hadn't gotten up to meet him, coming over and taking his arm to pull him up.

"Let go of me, I don't want to get up." Bella pouted, but let go.

Sebastien pulled away from where Mrs. Carriedo was carrying on about his eyes and how handsome he was, and peaked at his older brother. He had dirty blond hair, his haircut covering one of his eyes, and he was wearing a collared shirt under a gray vest, and slacks. He looked rich. Lars made a face and shook his hand when it was proffered.

"You're Lars? I've seen pictures of you. I'm glad to finally meet you!" He had an accent and it was grating to Lars' ears.

"Hm."

Sebastien's smile faltered at the flippancy of that answer, and Bella gave Lars a frown over his shoulder. 'Play nice,' the frown said.

"It's nice to meet you too," Lars muttered. Sebastien, like a trusting little kid, grinned again, seeming to immediately forget the first cold comment.

"Sebastien, you and Rodrigo are going to be staying with me, but I was going to be driving some of the Vargas' to Augustus', so do you want to go with Bella? Carriedos and Derrichs' are all meeting for dinner tonight," Mrs. Carriedo explained.

Sebastien nodded, grinning over at Bella, who smiled back. No one paid attention to Lars' look of distress that he shot at his aunt. Betrayal.

* * *

Leon knocked on the old wooden door, hoping that Emil got to the door before Lukas. He'd texted Emil ahead of time so he knew that Leon was coming, but he hadn't responded. Emil's car was in the driveway so he assumed he was home. It was Saturday, after all, and Emil didn't really do much on the weekend.

Lukas answered the door.

"What?" Lukas asked, visibly annoyed at finding Leon on his step.

"Is Emil here?"

"No, he went out about two hours ago."

Leon was surprised. "Really? Where?"

Lukas shrugged. "You think I would know more than you?" he scoffed. "I  _guess_  you could wait for him in the living room. If you  _want_." Lukas didn't want him to stay, and they both knew it, but Leon decided to take it as a sincere invitation.

"Thank you." He sat on the old couch in the living room and waited.

And waited.

It was awkward. He sat and watched Lukas move around the house, going in and out of the kitchen, trudging up the stairs with a tray of food and coming back down to get a glass of water and bring that upstairs as well. He took out his phone to look at it idly, because that was better than trying to stare at the ground and avoid eye contact with Lukas.

He texted Emil,  _'Where are you?'_

He didn't get a response for fifteen minutes.

' _Hey sorry, I'm on a bus on the way home. Where are you?'_

' _Sitting in your living room. Where have you been?'_

' _Sorry. I was planning on taking a shower when I get home, okay? Is Lukas giving you a hard time?'_

Leon huffed, extremely annoyed. He was going to  _shower_?

Leon was still really bothered about how Emil had acted the last time they were together, even after talking to Yao about it. He didn't want Emil to feel so awkward about being intimate that he had to leave right after. After gathering his courage to discuss this with Emil, he came all the way over, to find that Emil was  _gone_ , and not responding to his texts, and now he was going to make Leon sit in his room, probably, as he took a  _shower_.

Leon was beyond annoyed.

Emil showed up ten minutes later, throwing his backpack down by the door and greeting Leon by raising his hand in his direction. "Wanna come upstairs?"

Leon didn't respond, frowning and following him up the stairs.

"I'm going to take that shower, okay? I'll make it quick," Emil said before they even got into his room. "You can sit in my room. I'm just going to grab some clothes to change into."

Leon again didn't say anything, just nodding and sitting on his bed.

He didn't even sound sorry. He didn't sound sorry for making him wait in silence with Emil's brother bustling around him and he didn't sound sorry for taking a shower and making him wait longer and he didn't sound sorry for rushing out on Leon the other day.

Leon's chest hurt with how furious he was. But he didn't let it show.

Emil took fifteen minutes and came back fully dressed in the clothes he'd grabbed.

"So why'd you show up today?" Emil asked, putting his old clothes in his bin and tousling his hair with his towel.

Suddenly, Leon lost his nerve. "I—"It really was an awkward thing to bring up, wasn't it? "Next month my Grandma's coming to visit."

"Oh yeah?" Emil said, sitting next to him.

God, Leon couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to say it. How stupid. "Yeah. Yao's turning thirty and there are other things going on with extended family, so she's coming over from Hong Kong. Everyone's bringing their significant others."

"Oh, I see. Do I need to get something nice to wear?"

Leon nodded. He's using his Grandmother to avoid talking about sex and he couldn't believe it.

"Well, we'll talk about that. Do I need to wear something Chinese or just a nice shirt and pants?"

"You don't have to know that much right now. I'll ask Yao what he's going to have Ivan wear." Emil was asking too many specific questions so immediately, it occurred to Leon. This was strange. "So what were you doing that you didn't check your phone for so long? And you need a shower?"

"Oh," Emil said. It was like he forgot what he'd been doing. "Just walking around downtown. It got really hot and I was walking up hills and stuff so I just felt gross."

"I didn't think you liked walking around. You could've come to Chinatown and we could've walked around together."

"Oh, I didn't even think about that, sorry. Next time."

"Yeah," Leon said, really unimpressed, "Next time."

"Well, you'll stay for dinner, right?"

* * *

Kiku had a copy of the key to Sadiq and Herakles' apartment by this time. Kiku moving in wasn't really in the discussion for them yet, but it was at the back of their minds.

At least once a weekend he would drop by and watch a movie or have dinner with them.

Today when he dropped by he found them on the couch, sitting on opposite ends of it and watching TV. This wasn't uncommon for them, but Kiku always found the distance peculiar.

The distance they always kept between themselves, and the fact that neither of them had met the other's parents, and didn't know anything intimate about each other always concerned Kiku.

"Heya Kiku, come over here," Sadiq said when he heard Kiku come in. Kiku dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and sat beside him. Herakles scooted in to be right on his other side, and Sadiq put his arm around him.

"How's your week?" Herakles asked with a peck to his cheek.

Kiku sighed, leaning his head against Sadiq's shoulder. "Exhausting."

Herakles cooed in sympathy.

"I really hate my boss," Kiku continued, folding his legs beneath him. "He gave my promotion to someone else."

"Well that's his loss, right?" Sadiq assured him.

"No, it really is my loss. My landlord's been raising rent. The only thing I know that I could do to keep up is ask Yao to get a second job, but I know he can't. And if he doesn't I can't ask my father for a loan because he thinks I'm letting Yao freeload off me."

"You know if you need any help, we'll do our best," Herakles said, giving him another kiss on the cheek.

"He means  _I'll_ help you the best  _I_  can. As usual," Sadiq corrected.

"What does that mean? I can help."

"Not with  _your_  paycheck."

"Hey, shut up. Money isn't everything, you know."

"Oh don't get started with your philosophy bullshit."

"Take that back you jerk. Gupta appreciates my philosophy."

"What, are you going to go run off with Gupta next?"

"Hey—."

"Cut it out," Kiku said, sitting up and away from them.

"What? What did we do?" Sadiq said, frowning over at Herakles.

"You two bicker too much. It's draining." Kiku stood up. "I'm going to make tea."

Herakles glanced at Sadiq, eyebrows furrowed and mouthing, 'Your fault'.

'No way,' Sadiq mouthed back. 'This is on you, brat.'

"Do you ever consider why you two aren't very intimate?" Kiku asked conversationally.

"What?" they both asked, confused. "We're plenty…. Intimate, I think!" Sadiq added.

"You didn't even want to  _say_  intimate," Kiku pointed out, not missing a beat. "You two are amazing to me. You've been together for several years, never bought each other flowers and never told your families about each other."

"Well honestly that depends on your definition of 'several' because I think it's been about two and a half years, but 'several' means three or more-."

"Stop, that's not the point." Kiku sighed, leaning against the counter and waiting for his water to boil. The open concept of Sadiq and Herakles' apartment is usually really nice, but Kiku would've liked to go elsewhere and not have to hear the two for a moment.

"Yeah, Herakles, stop with your stupid definitions."

"Shut up Sadiq. What is the point then, Kiku?" Herakles said, sounding honestly curious.

Kiku shrugged. "You two weren't even sitting near each other until I came in. I just don't really like that."

"I don't get why it bothers you."

Kiku sighed, annoyed and rolling his eyes. "I don't ever remember seeing you two kiss. You don't ever cuddle each other. I know you have sex whenever I don't stay over, but that's not the same."

"That's just not how we are," Herakles shrugged, and Sadiq nodded in agreement. Kiku frowned, and turned away to take the kettle off the stove as it started to whistle. He poured the water into his mug. He couldn't believe how thick his boyfriends were being.

He picked up his mug and went back to the couch. "Sadiq sits in the middle. Go on, move. I want the edge."

Sadiq made a face, but moved. Herakles moved back to the other side. None of their knees touched when Kiku sat down. Sadiq tried to put his arm over Kiku's shoulders again, but Kiku stopped him. "No. I just want to drink my tea, thanks."

* * *

Matthias had been thinking.

It would be really difficult to have a date with Lukas. He was always really busy.

So, what if he dropped by to help make dinner  _at_ his house? That would be romantic.

Lukas was annoyed when he answered the door to an unexpected visitor for the second time that Saturday.

"Matthias? What do you want?"

"I was thinking we could have dinner tonight!" Matthias grinned, "I bought some fresh salmon at the market. What do you think?"

Lukas frowned. "What's this all about? I have to make dinner for Emil, and I have to run Leon out pretty soon."

"Oooh, Emil's got a  _boy_  over?" Matthias crowed, nudging into the entryway.

Lukas rolled his eyes. "Let me see that fish you said you got."

"I've got it in a cooler in my trunk. Wanna help me bring it in?" Lukas nodded.

Matthias opened up his trunk, opening the cooler and showing Lukas the salmon lying on ice.

"That's actually a really quality fish. How much did you pay for this?"

Matthias shrugged.

"In fact, you shouldn't be driving with your broken arm. How did you even carry this fish?"

"You know I have buddies at the fish market. They carried it for me. And really, my arm isn't that bad I can drive just fine."

Lukas gave him a hard look. "If you hit something and make your arm even worse, I will feel absolutely no pity for you."

Matthias laughed. "Come on, help me lift it," he said, grabbing one of the handles and starting to pull

"Hey, stop that. I'll carry it." Lukas brushed Matthias' hands away and grabbed the cooler himself. "How were you thinking we should prepare it?"

"You still have that salmon rub your Mom made a while ago, right?"

They started toward the front door again, and Lukas tried to remember what salmon rub he was talking about. "I think what you're thinking was a lot longer ago than you think."

Matthias took a long moment. "What?"

"That was a long time ago. My mom hasn't made any salmon rub for a while."

Matthias hummed. "Oh."

Lukas placed the cooler down in the kitchen.

"I think I might have something to season this with."

Matthias sat at the kitchen table.

"I'll take care of this. So really, why'd you come over here with this?" Lukas asked as he took out a couple knives to prepare the fish.

Matthias shrugged. "I thought, wouldn't it be nice to see Lukas? So I bought a fish so you would let me stay."

Lukas gave him a look. "How dare you know me so well."

Matthias cackled, "I knew it was going to work."

"What do you mean 'work'? Do you think you are charming me? Are you courting me? You're going to have to do better than a twenty dollar fish to win me over."

Matthias just laughed to himself. "So what about Leon? He's here, right? How long they been up there? You want me to go shake 'em up?"

Lukas smiled. "It's been like a half hour. I think most of that was Emil showering."

Matthias raised his eyebrows up high. " _Showering_ , and you didn't check on if Leon was in there with him? What if Emil got pregnant."

"Oh my god Matthias shut up," Lukas said, laughing and shooting Matthias a little, annoyed, smile.

Matthias smiled to himself. That smile was  _totally_  worth the  _forty_  (not twenty) dollar fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy thanksgiving.
> 
> i was meaning to have this up for the past week sorry.
> 
> i hope everyone is aware of ferguson and the other struggles all over the world. for those affected by any of the current turmoil, please stay safe. i encourage those who are not affect to research ferguson, hong kong, mexico (ayotzinapa, i believe), brazil, remember ukraine and egypt and nigeria.
> 
> most of all, i hope everyone can have a safe holiday season. thanks


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead!!!

Yao, surprisingly, slept until Ivan began to shift the next morning.

"Good morning," Yao mumbled into Ivan's shoulder. Ivan hummed, taking deep breath through his nose and pulling Yao a bit closer. They were both reluctant to move.

"We should get up," Yao yawned, his hand that was thrown over Ivan's middle running over his ribcage.

Ivan nodded, rubbing his eyes. "We should."

Yao nodded too, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"You're not going to try to bribe me out of bed with breakfast?"

Yao hummed. "It's too early."

"Are you making fun of me?" Ivan asked jokingly, frowning for effect even if Yao wouldn't bother to look.

Yao chuckled, "Oh get over yourself, I'm sleeping."

"I've lived to see the day that Yao Wang sleeps in..." Ivan trailed off, tutting.

Yao scoffed, scowling lightly at Ivan, and taking a deep breath before sighing and sitting up. "Fine, I'm awake." He stretched his arms and tossed the blankets off of himself.

"Breakfast?" Ivan grinned and pulled himself to sit up against the wall.

"Cereal," Yao winked, bopping his nose before crawling off the bed and pulling on a tee and sweats. His hair was still untied, and Ivan loved the disheveled way the shirt hung off his shoulder, and how you could tell which side Yao was sleeping on because the flat hair and the red lines on his face.

Ivan rolled onto his back and let his shoulders, which are unusually sore, relax before he sat up and searched for his boxers so he could follow Yao into the kitchen for his cereal.

Yao was already bringing out two bowls and spoons, and asking Ivan which cereal he would like.

They took their bowls and ate them, leaning against the counters in the little kitchen. It was a comfortable moment of quiet between them. Until they heard footsteps coming from Kiku's room.

Yao tensed up, mouthing, "I thought he wasn't here?"

Kiku emerged into the kitchen and immediately went for the tea kettle, filling it with water and putting it on the stove top before he even noticed Yao and Ivan. Neither of them were fully dressed and Ivan could feel his cheeks burning in the silence that followed after Kiku looking at them both, and freezing where he was.

"Ivan, why are you not wearing pants in my apartment?" was what he eventually managed.

The three of them stood in stupefied silence, Kiku staring at the two of them and the two staring back, because Kiku shook his head and turned to the stove top. " _Please_  stop looking so stupid and go get dressed."

Ivan nodded sheepishly even though Kiku obviously couldn't see him, and followed his orders, scrambling back through the kitchen to Yao's bedroom. Yao, covering his laughs, followed him just as quickly.

Ivan left shortly thereafter.

* * *

Emil pulled out his homework. "Did you bring yours? We can work on something until dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry, I think I might just go home," Leon stood.

"What? It won't be ready for a while, it's okay."

"It's okay, you obviously have other things to deal with."

"What does that mean?" Emil stood, too.

"It like, doesn't matter. You can walk me to the door." Leon turned to the hall and prevented Emil from slipping another word in edgewise. Emil, confused about Leon's sour attitude, followed him down the stairs.

Matthias heard them coming down stairs and peered out to the living room with a grin as Leon grabbed his jacket, Emil still reeling, wondering what was happening. "Are you leaving, Leon?" he asked, grinning and glancing at Lukas in the kitchen. "You aren't going to eat dinner with us?"

"Don't want to intrude," he said, pulling on his jacket.

"Don't want to intrude?" Matthias scoffed, and Emil could feel Lukas turning around to glare at the back of Matthias' head through the wall. "How do you think I ended up here? I insist you stay."

Leon hesitated and glanced at Emil. He sighed. "Okay, only because you insist."

* * *

Bella had Sebastien sit in the front seat so he could see more as they drove to the Carriedo household. He spent most of the ride turned around, though, talking to Lars, who was astounded how well he continued a conversation all by himself.

"My Dad said that it would be rainy here. Did I bring good weather?" he asked, his smile jaunty and bothersome. Lars didn't respond, glaring at the word 'Dad' which lingered in the air.

Bella smiled, "You must have. Although, it is summer, so that may be it as well." Lars found this small talk to be a nuisance, and Bella glanced in the rear view mirror to convey that she wanted him to talk more.

"You have an accent, is that Dutch or French?" Bella asked Sebastien.

"Oh," he said, nodding his bangs out of his eye, "I speak Luxembourgish at home, because Dad thought it was really important that I could speak it fluently. I learned French in an academy that I attended in Paris, and English was taught there as well, but two years ago I studied abroad in London. Do I sound British?" he asked cheekily.

"Wow, that sounds really cool! Was it hard to get into that program?" Bella asked, working hard to continue the conversation.

"No, you really only needed the money to pay," he shrugged.

"Did you get a job to help pay for it?"

"Dad paid for it."

Lars was being more and more repelled by this conversation. What a brat. Lars had to work, rake leaves, walk dogs, since he was in middle school, and this boy was sent to London for nothing.

"What a great opportunity," Bella, ever chipper, declared.

Sebastien nodded, and turned back to look at Lars. "Have you ever been to London?"

Lars shook his head. "Don't get to travel."

"Oh," Sebastien faltered, "You should come visit Luxembourg sometime. I could show you around everything!"

"Hm."

"Have you ever been in a helicopter?" he continued.

"No."

"Ooh, you would love mine!" he practically bounced with excitement. "It's technically Dad's, but he lets me use it when I have girls over or whatever."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Bella asked. She exaggerated her interest, Lars knew, to cover for Lars' detachment from the situation over all.

They were close to Carriedo's house at this point, so Lars zoned out. He hoped he could sit next to Rodrigo and maybe even have Sebastien sit at the opposite end of the table. He didn't want to hear anymore about 'Dad'.

They pulled up in a moment, and Antonio's car wasn't too far behind.

"Who lives here?" Sebastien asked, peering out the window. "It's pretty small."

Lars gritted his teeth.

"Antonio's parents live here. It's just the right size for them," Bella provided, also vexed by Sebastien's comment.

Sebastien shrugged, "Alright. Are we all going to fit in there?"

Bella covered her grimace with a smile and glanced at Lars, "I'm sure we will."

* * *

Lukas, not having been asked if it was okay that Leon stay, was not happy. He wasn't sure where to glower. It was Matthias' fault that Leon was there, but it was Emil's boyfriend to begin with. Furthermore, Leon was the source of the Leon problem, but he was the guest so it wouldn't do to be directly rude.

He alternated between the Matthias and Emil.

He set the salmon on the table, taking the best part and putting it on a separate plate. "Take this upstairs," he told Emil. Emil nodded and took the plate, hurrying so he didn't leave Leon alone for long.

"How's your summer going Leon?" Matthias asked sociably.

"It's good." He took a plate of fish that Lukas served for him.

"You have plans for the rest of it?"

Leon nodded, setting down the plate handed to him for Emil. "My Grandmother is visiting, and my parents and I might go back to Hong Kong with her and visit."

"That sounds fun," Matthias smiled.

Emil was back, took his seat by Leon. He didn't sit too close—not sure what Leon would do since he's mad at him, apparently, and because Lukas was giving him a death look and he didn't want to start something.

"So Leon's going to Hong Kong, are you two going to email back and forth?" Matthias asked Emil.

"Hong Kong? I didn't know about that."

"Hm, I guess I forgot to mention that part," Leon said, unapologetic. Emil frowned, and Matthias frowned too, over at Lukas, who raised an eyebrow.

"Well my summer has been awesome aside from being in the hospital for most of it. People ask me about my arm and I get to make up stories that make me sound awesome," Matthias continued, taking the attention off whatever tension he sensed between the teenagers.

Lukas scoffed, "What kinds of stories do you tell?"

"Heroic ones!" he said eagerly, cutting the salmon and serving himself, motioning for Lukas to pick up his plate so he could serve him too.

"Oh yeah," Lukas drawled, unimpressed. "Tell me one."

Matthias pouted, "You're being mean."

"I don't see how."

"You're going to make fun of me."

"You're absolutely right."

Matthias huffed, "Never mind. My summer sucks and Lukas is mean to me."

Liam chuckled, and held out his plate for Emil to serve him.

* * *

Kiku was not happy for the rest of the day. Although Yao felt the tension in the home as soon as Ivan left, he didn't comment on it. He was leaving for work soon anyway and he didn't need to open the door for Kiku to complain about Ivan or bring up their finances. Kiku wasn't supposed to be home, so it was no one else's fault that he didn't know Ivan would be there.

When Kiku is upset, he sits and watches his cartoon shows on the TV, so Yao knew that once the TV was turned on, he didn't want to stay in the same room as him. He took a shower instead.

Kiku sat on the couch and played the first DVD he had on his shelf in the background as he looked at his laptop. His main concern right now wasn't Yao's boyfriend—and how he was in  _Kiku's kitchen_ in  _nothing but his boxers_ , however annoying that was—but on hopefully finding a more affordable apartment in the area. He told himself that he just needed to find a new place for him and Yao, but in the back of his mind he imagined moving in with Sadiq and Herakles instead. That didn't solve any problems with where Yao would go, though.

He wondered if he could move in with Mei. That wouldn't be too bad. Otherwise they would have to downsize considerably and Kiku honestly wasn't interested in that. Sadiq and Herakles' apartment wasn't too inconvenient for commuting to Kiku's office, and was in a relatively nice neighborhood so it would be perfect for him.

Yao's shower was longer than he anticipated, and he needed to hurry once he got dressed. He was nearly out the door, congratulating himself on avoiding Kiku so far when Kiku stopped him.

"Yao before you go, what do you think about moving in with Mei? She lives near the library and the bookstore, so I was just thinking…" he explained.

Yao wasn't impressed by the idea, and he didn't want Kiku to keep talking at him, so he hummed and went out the door. He smiled at the idea of how Kiku probably sputtered after he left so abruptly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Haha it took me like seven or eight months to write such a small chapter lmao!
> 
> Yeah so I got a job and I was taking higher level classes and it got crazy! I would say I might write more often in the Summer now but I have big trips planned so who knows. Just know that I am constantly guilty over not finishing this yet- but I swear I will finish it. It'll happen. I swear to god.
> 
> I dont know if im more laughing or crying over how obvious it is that I just gave up on expanding certain parts of this chapter. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Please review. I almost literally beg of you. almost
> 
> Thanks for reading


	65. Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yao put up a hand to stop him. "Kiku, please, I'm not stupid." He pulled his pony tail to the front of his shoulder and started messing with it to busy his hands. "I'll tell you what— give me two weeks to find my own place to move to, and if after that I can't, then I will definitely talk about moving in with Mei."
> 
> Kiku waited a moment to make sure Yao was serious before rubbing his temple. "Two weeks?"
> 
> Yao nodded.
> 
> "I guess that will work with my schedule, since we're moving out in five weeks." He drummed his fingers on his own cheek. "Fine. Two weeks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this dumb never ending fic :~)  
> Please review ~~~~~  
> btw catch me @ vaenire dot tumblr dot com

" _What do you think of Ivan?"_ Sadiq's phone buzzed.

Glancing down at the phone, he took it to the side to reread. The club was going to open in fifteen minutes so he hoped whatever was running through Kiku's mind would pass quickly.

" _I don't know, he's a nice guy I guess."_

" _:/ Nice guy?"_

Sadiq rolled his eyes.  _"Yes? I don't know, what do you want me to say?"_

" _Is he trustworthy? Is he weird? Creeps are_ usually _nice._ "

Sadiq shook his head and had to look away and courteously nodded to whoever was coming in the side door—which happened to be Ivan, who smiled and nodded back.

" _I very highly doubt that he is a creep."_ Kiku definitely had a tendency to get an idea and fret over it. Sadiq added,  _"Just let Yao figure it out for himself_." Kiku didn't respond before work started.

* * *

"Okay, so I'll see you next time," Leon said briskly as the night came to an end and Emil walked him to the door. He pulled it opened and stepped out onto the front step before Emil followed and stopped him.

"What's the deal tonight, Leon? What are you so… messed up over?" Emil questioned, finally able to question Leon's irritability all afternoon.

Leon took a moment to evaluate just how upset Emil had gotten after Leon had waived him off at every turn during his visit— _like he's been treating me_ , he thought. He shrugged.

"I guess I'm just anxious about school starting," he bluffed.

"Not anxious about  _Hong Kong_? What was that about? I didn't know you were going to Hong Kong this summer."

Leon shrugged, "It just came up recently. I guess I haven't had the chance to tell you." He stepped off the step, turning to go.

"We saw each other just the other day," Emil protested to his turned back.

Again, Leon shrugged. "Not for long enough, I guess," he called over his shoulder as he ambled down the steps, dragging his arm up for a short wave before disappearing around the fence.

Inside, Lukas began to wash the larger dishes from their dinner. Matthias was seated at the table still, with his chair moved so he could talk to Lukas more easily. Despite this, he stayed silent and watched Lukas' back as the other cleaned the dishes.

The silence took a moment to catch Lukas' attention. He looked over his shoulder wryly, "What are you looking at?"

"You," Matthias muttered. "Do you need help with that?"

"Yes," Lukas answered, "Because you can really help a lot with only one arm."

Matthias clicked his tongue and scoffed. "How kind of you. I can put dishes away or something."

"You really don't have to," was Lukas' emphatic response.

Matthias sighed, but dropped it. "The meal really was good. And you were nice enough to Leon."

"Tch."

"What! I know you didn't want him staying, but was  _so much fish…_ "

Lukas rinsed the pan he'd just washed and stuck it into the cupboard it belonged to and turned to give Matt a look.

"You know, it's not like I personally  _dislike_ him."

Matt raised one doubtful eyebrow.

"No, I just hate that Emil didn't  _tell_  me about them."

Matthias sighed, and was about to reply when the front door opened and Emil came back in. The two of them in the kitchen listened to his footsteps as he went upstairs. "They didn't talk for very long," Matthias observed.

Lukas shook his head in agreement, turning back to the dishes in the sink.

Matthias thought about his observation for a moment and laughed under his breath.

"What?"

"It's just—dating for teenagers is so dramatic. I'm glad we didn't do that."

Lukas rolled his eyes and didn't say anything. Matthias stayed quiet as Lukas finished cleaning up as well.

"Do you drink coffee after dinner? I can make us some."

Matthias nodded. In just a few minutes Lukas was setting down a pot of coffee, two mugs and some sugar cubes.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" Lukas asked as he waited for the sugar cube to dissolve in his coffee.

Matthias shrugged—"I'm just thinking."

Lukas stirred his coffee idly, "About…?"

"I don't know. Us."

Lukas smiled affectionately and left it at that. They enjoyed their coffee in peace.

It felt so strange, so nicely strange, to sit in amiable silence with Matthias again after everything—the years of wondering if he could possibly feel the same way, the weeks of wondering if he'd be okay, if he'd ever be the same, if he'd  _remember_. It was like the opposite of the 'calm before the storm'. All of that felt like some weird dream. Lukas poured himself more coffee.

Lukas had considered Matthias his best friend for  _years_ , but he couldn't actually remember a time when he felt a better ambience between them than now. Even with the weight of Matthias' injuries, the knowledge that they had had mutual feelings for  _years_  that they hadn't acted on, the weight of being  _adults_  whereas they used to be so carefree—this beat back all the negativity from the years leading up to it.

Matthias grabbed the coffee pot next.

Before either of them knew it, it was getting dark outside.

"I should get going," Matthias started to get up.

"No!" Lukas said loudly; Matthias jumped a little. "I mean, you shouldn't be driving. You should, uh, you can stay the night."

Matthias, surprised and a little confused, stared at him with wide eyes, still in a semi-standing semi-sitting position. Lukas was tense and was also visibly surprised by his own outburst. "Lukas…"

"In the guest room, I mean."

"That's fine, really-"

"I insist," he crossed his arms and stood to wash out the long-empty coffee pot in way of pushing his agenda. He avoided eye contact.

Oh… Matthias mentally hit himself. The last time he was over and he left after dark…

"Alright," he ceded. "I'll stay the night."

* * *

The entire Carriedo family was crammed in Mrs. And Mr. Carriedo's small suburban home. The  _entire_  family. Mrs. Carriedo's sister snatched Sebastien away and began introducing him to everyone the  _moment_  they entered the loud, crowded living room. Bella was swept away to the kitchen because "Aunt Felicia just has  _no idea_  how to spice her beef, can you help?"

So Lars sat in the unbearably loud, hot living room. An aunt on his side of Antonio's family came and said 'hi', commented on how 'grown' he looked. He smiled and didn't respond. He couldn't remember if these people knew he was Dying.

Some man he didn't know complimented his shoes. He smiled again, and he knew it looked forced. It was really hot in this room, but he didn't want to move anywhere else.

A cousin who he recognized but couldn't place their name asked if he'd like some water. He smiled and nodded. He had felt queasy since they got to the airport, and he wondered if he could sneak away upstairs. He smiled when he took the water from the cousin—it didn't feel like she'd been gone that long, but she was already back. His smile didn't look natural, if the look on his cousin's face was anything to go by.

"Lars honey?" Mrs. Carriedo had come out of the kitchen. "Want to come to the kitchen?"

It took him only a moment to respond with a nod.

Mrs. Carriedo took his arm and led him back and away from the rest of the family. She sat him at the counter and took his now empty cup (when did he drink that?) and refilled it with ice water.

Bella was on the other side of the kitchen (which was also crowded with one cousin fussing over the salad, another creating some kind of marinade, an uncle stirring some tomato sauce; it was less crowded than the living room, though), throwing nervous glances over at him over her shoulder. "Stay here and drink water," Mrs. Carriedo told him with a wave of her index finger in his face. She went back to direct her brother on how to stir the sauce.

Lars zoned out for a while.

* * *

Kiku was watching anime when Yao got home. He could hear it as soon as he opened the door.

He thought, maybe, he'd have a chance to sneak into his room—childish, he knew, but it was worth a shot.

"Yao?" He did not get very far. In fact the front door had just closed behind him; it's probably what gave him away.

"Yes?"

"Can you come in here?" Yao slumped.

"Fine."

He went into the living room and found Kiku in his pajamas watching old 80s anime. Kiku grabbed the remote and paused it. He waited for Yao to sit down on the couch next to him.

"You stormed out before I could really talk to you this morning."

"Yeah," Yao said.

Kiku waited for the apology he probably already knew he wasn't going to get. "Well, we've already talked about how the rent is getting too high here."

Yao nodded.

"I've talked with Sadiq and Herakles and I'll probably be moving in with them. However, that leaves us with where you'll be staying."

Yao nodded.

Kiku made a displeasured face. "I talked with Mei, and she says her roommate is moving out soon, and that she could make a deal with rent for you to stay there. I could continue to subsidize your income, but—"

"That's okay."

Kiku halted at the interruption. Something wasn't processing correctly. "That's okay?"

"Yeah."

"What, exactly, is okay?"

"I think I can manage to find a place to live on my own."

"On… your own?"

"I really appreciate how much you've helped me; really, you have done a lot for me. But I think I'm ready to go out on my own again."

Kiku blinked at him.

"On your own."

Yao nodded.

"Yao if you end up homeless…"

Yao put up a hand to stop him. "Kiku, please, I'm not stupid." He pulled his pony tail to the front of his shoulder and started messing with it to busy his hands. "I'll tell you what— give me two weeks to find my own place to move to, and if after that I can't, then I will definitely talk about moving in with Mei."

Kiku waited a moment to make sure Yao was serious before rubbing his temple. "Two weeks?"

Yao nodded.

"I guess that will work with my schedule, since we're moving out in five weeks." He drummed his fingers on his own cheek. "Fine. Two weeks."

Yao smiled, his hand already going for his cell phone.

* * *

If Lars had not made the extended family on Antonio's side aware of his illness before, they were sure beginning to suspect it now.

Lars was seated between Sebastien and Bella at the table, and as the food was being passed around she took portions for herself and for Lars. She scooped small portions for Lars because she knew he didn't have much of an appetite these days. Antonio was seated across from Lars, with Lovino and Rodrigo on either side (Mrs. Carriedo was seated at the end of the table, and Lovino and Bella were to each side of her).

Although it was a long table and Lars was seated relatively far from the others, he could still feel them watch as he picked at his food. Every time he looked up, Lovino was glancing at the wall this way or that, but when Lars looked down he  _knew_  that Lovino was staring at him. Antonio and Rodrigo were, too, but that didn't piss Lars off like Lovino did. Sebastien, however, was the worst at hiding it.

"Do you not like the meat sauce?" he asked eventually.

Rodrigo cut in—"Don't worry about it, Sebastien. Lars has always been finicky." That was a straight up lie, but when Lars looked at Rodrigo he knew not to protest.

Sebastien shrugged and resumed eating his own food (and minding his own business, Lars thought).

Rodrigo smiled at Lars softly.

"Have you heard if your mom will make it to the wedding?" Rodrigo asked, cutting his beef with his fork and knife.

Lars raised his brows—he hadn't even thought about her. Bella cleared her throat.

"I've been talking to her about it and she will definitely try, if she can get the days off work," Bella explained, winking at Lars. "I sent her your engagement photos, by the way," she added, redirecting to Antonio and Lovino. "She thought you both looked very handsome."

Antonio smiled but Lovino furrowed his brows—"Who are we talking about?"

"Aunt Anna? Oh, you have never met her." Antonio wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Lars and Bella's Mom."

Lovino was perturbed by this. He scrutinized Antonio and Bella. "O…kay… I'm confused but okay."

"Anna is  _my_  mother, and  _their_  Mom," Sebastien offered, only making Lars grimace. Hearing Sebastien talk about his Mom wasn't even necessarily something that should bother Lars, but it did. He looked at Bella with a forced smile and eyes that told her to find a way to change the subject. The  _tone_  Sebastien just used made Lars so uncomfortable.

Lovino grimaced too, frowned, and covered his eyes. "Okay."

"So tell us about your girlfriend, Rodrigo," Bella diverted not-so-smoothly.

"Oh," Rodrigo said smartly. He shrugged. "She's great, really."

"Oh yeah? Where'd you meet?"

Rodrigo looked at Antonio, who had asked the question, with a smile and wide eyes. "Oh, you know. Around…"

"In Spain or Portugal? Didn't Mama ask that earlier? I can't remember what you had replied."

"Um, I met her in Portugal, but she's not Portuguese."

"Is she Spanish?"

Rodrigo looked down the table at where there was a small ruckus coming from some rowdy aunts and uncles. "No…"

Lars glanced at Mrs. Carriedo, seated just two seats down from this conversation, who was listening intently.

God, what he would give to be seated nearer Mr. Carriedo. Lars glanced down to the other end of the table at the frail older man. He was eating intently, not even paying any mind to the loud laughing and talking going on all around him—maybe he turned his hearing aids off.

* * *

Ivan lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was three in the morning but he really just couldn't sleep.

He literally got  _this close_  to doing  _it_  with Yao,  _just last night_.

" _Do you want me to suck you off?"_  Ivan bit his lip at the memory of Yao saying that so naturally. Little bits of the night before raced through his head, making his heart flutter and race all at once. Damn, he really was in over his head.

Ivan ran his hand through his hair. He wondered if it would be easier or harder to sleep if Yao was next to him.  _Those are dangerous thought,_ Ivan chided himself.

His phone buzzed and lit up his ceiling. Rolling over and grabbing his phone he saw that it was a text from Yao.

" _I was waiting until you got home to ask, but can we meet somewhere tomorrow around 2?"_

It was hard to adjust his eyes so quickly to the bright little screen.  _"Sure. Library?"_

" _Sounds good :)"_

Ivan smiled and put his phone back—face down—on his night stand. He absolutely knew that he would probably let something embarrassing slip tomorrow; whether it was about that close-but-no-cigar sex they had or his little three-word secret, he only knew it was going to be bad. But he was happy to be seeing Yao again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I have to say it's pretty crazy that I started writing this fic when I was entering Sophomore year in high school and these next few months are college application season…
> 
> Speaking of college apps, you can take that as, essentially, a guarantee that you'll be seeing more of me. Because I am a dirty dirty procrastinator ;)
> 
> **Also! I have a survey[here](http://lilsnit.polldaddy.com/s/randomfanatic-writing) that I would love if you could fill out to help me improve my writing. **


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